Crane, Bear, Panther, and Dragon
by Kateli
Summary: Hermione is facing changes that may threaten to change her relationships, her career, and even herself. It is a journey that brings back many memories and threatens to upset the wizarding world as she knows it as muggles somehow begin to discover magic.
1. From Deal to Big Deal

**A/N: I decided to edit and combine the first few chapters because I think the construction was a bit off… There are now fewer chapters but they are longer. I also removed an unnecessary paragraph here and there. I'm hoping this will satisfy readers more… I know I personally like longer chapters, even if I'm getting to the meat of the story by the same time whether they're broken up or not. I don't know.**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

**xxxxx**

Chapter One

From Deal To Big Deal

Hermione sat at her kitchen table with a large mug of pumpkin juice and a copy of the Daily Prophet. It had only been five days, but already she was becoming desperate, mostly because she knew that if she didn't figure this out, she was going to be in a very sticky situation indeed.

She was going to have to start looking in the muggle papers. It wouldn't really be a big deal, would it? Their deal didn't state that it _had_ to be a wizarding community, right? As long as it turned out to be comfortable and affordable, what did it matter?

It was still early (about ten o'clock or so) and Hermione was already running out of steam. She'd only been reading for about a half an hour and it was all starting to sound the same. Either it was too expensive or too crappy. The purchaser was not exactly flexible. More like extremely picky, which was ironic considering the place would probably end up a complete mess, anyway.

Hermione decided that she would head to Muggle London to pick up a couple of papers. The real estate section in the Daily Prophet just wasn't cutting it. A muggle flat would have to do until something better could be found. She just couldn't let the worst happen… it had already been five days, and the deal was "one week, Hermione, otherwise I'll go completely nutters over there! You have to help me!"

She put on some muggle clothes and headed out. She was meeting Neville in Hogsmeade at noon anyway, so it was good to be out and about. Hermione made sure to grab her umbrella on her way out, as it was raining outside. Walking around muggle London with a water-repellent charm was a bit conspicuous, to say the least.

She was disappointed about the weather, seeing as it was a Saturday in August and she had weekends off. Every other day of the week she worked 8 am to 5 pm with only a half hour break. Ministry Officials had a very stringent schedule. Especially for those involved in her area. Before she started her training, she had no idea how many muggles actually came close to discovering magic. Now that she was employed in the Improper Use of Magic Office, she was constantly working to protect muggles from the many complications magic would involve them in. While she enjoyed her work, it certainly wasn't all she thought it would be. Most of the time, it was just sending owls to witches and wizards who did magic in a close proximity to muggles or underage Hogwarts students who performed magic at home.

She stopped at a street vendor to flip through the real estate sections of a few papers before deciding on a couple to take with her and study later. She then took the fastest route back towards Diagon Alley and found a safe place to apparate to Hogsmeade. Once there, she headed over to Neville's cottage and knocked, a bit hesitantly. After all, she was rather early. However, Neville opened the door in good spirits, gave her a hug, and ushered her inside.

"You look great, Neville," Hermione smiled, "How are you? How's your research?"

"Great and great," Neville proudly stated, beaming. "Would you like anything to eat, drink? Please, sit down!"

Neville brought Hermione to the couch in his sitting room and then went to the kitchen. After he had left Hogwarts, he had been invited by Professor Sprout to conduct research in the Hogwarts greenhouses. His work was soon noticed by the Ministry and they were now monitoring his progress and paying him for his discoveries. Hermione knew that he wasn't making a very large sum of money, but he enjoyed his research and she was happy for him. He returned a moment later with a tray of biscuits and tea.

"Sorry I came so early," she apologized, "I just happened to be out already and there seemed no sense in going back to my flat just to leave again in a half hour."

"You know I don't mind, Hermione," Neville said. "You're always welcome! So tell me, what's with the muggle newspapers?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. He noticed her reaction and bit his lip slightly, "That doesn't look good. Ron, I'm assuming?"

She sighed and nodded, "He's looking for an apartment or some sort of living arrangement, and you know how picky he can be. He's asked for my help and I can't seem to find anything within his price range. The only places I've found were rather shabby, and while he isn't snobby… well, he just wants to feel comfortable. He's always been sensitive about his… 'status,' I guess. It's never bothered me much before, but now that I'm caught up in it, I've realized how ridiculous he is about it."

"Of course," Neville said. "Why don't you just tell him you can't find anything? Don't waste your time looking through muggle papers. I have a feeling they wouldn't appeal to him, and I think you know that, too. So what's the big deal? He's an adult, Hermione. You don't have to watch over him like you did when we were all studying for O.W.L.s."

"I know," Hermione wanted to laugh but the situation did not call for it, "That's not why I'm doing this, though. You see… we kind of made a deal. Not binding or anything, but as a friend, I feel an obligation, you know?" Neville nodded, frowning slightly. "He's desperate, what with this whole Harry and Ginny thing, and he asked me if he couldn't find his own place within a week, could he move in with me until he did? And of course I said yes, because… well, I don't know. I should've reasoned with him. But I can't turn back now."

"That's the kind of person you are," Neville said, "You would never turn down a friend. But I see your dilemma. Living with your ex would be awkward, no matter how great your friendship is." Hermione grimaced. "But what about Harry and Ginny? Her late night visits getting the best of Ron?"

"Oh no, you didn't hear?" Hermione was shocked. Shouldn't Neville have heard by now? "They're engaged, and she's already moved in with them! I can't believe they wouldn't have owled you!"

Neville grinned, "Good for them! That's great; I'm going to have to go visit them sometime soon!"

"And that's not all," Hermione smiled, "Ginny's three months pregnant!"

His jaw dropped, "Well, that's quite a surprise!"

"I know."

"Wow. This is so incredible! I have so many questions! What about Quidditch? What about… Ron. Now I understand." Neville's mood sobered and he got a faraway look.

"Yes," Hermione stated, and she noticed that she definitely felt the way he looked. "Ginny is going to suspend her training with the Harpies until the baby is born. She'll probably take off some additional time, but once she's able to get some help, she'll hopefully continue her training. I mean, she's only just turned 19. She has plenty of time to have kids later on if they decide to. This one was clearly… unexpected. But they're certainly thrilled. She just doesn't want to give up on her career so soon, so she's looking to return to her training within two years."

"And now they're kicking Ron out?"

"No, of course not!" Hermione was appalled.

"Okay," Neville chuckled, putting his hands up in surrender, "I didn't think so!"

"Ron just feels uncomfortable. They've told him several times that he's welcome to stay as long as he chooses. He's just choosing to leave as soon as he possibly can, even if it means having to live with me."

There was a silence then. Not uncomfortable or anything, just thoughtful. Hermione knew that if Ron moved in with her, there would be some serious problems. They had broken up almost a year ago because they were arguing way too much. The love was there, the physical attraction was there, but the compatibility wasn't. So Hermione, always the reasonable one, had brought it up one night in a conversation that Ron had agreed with and they had chosen to end things. Hermione, however, always suspected that Ron hadn't really been happy with the circumstances. She moved out a week later. What she didn't understand was why Ron was so desperate to get out of 12 Grimmauld Place now, when Harry had been totally fine living with them, a couple, for a year and a half. I guess it was different when the couple included your sister, and she was pregnant. Direct evidence that they weren't practicing abstinence.

Neville stood up, grabbed one of Hermione's newspapers and flipped through it for a moment. Hermione smiled. He was always willing to lend a helping hand. She was grateful to have a friend like him. But then he tossed the paper into the trash. She frowned, confused.

"Neville, I know Ron won't like it, but I'll just explain that it's not that hard to floo or apparate to a wizarding area. Besides, us living together is just a bad idea. My flat is small, we can't handle the close contact without blowing up at each other at least twice a week, and it's not-"

"Hermione!" Neville cut her off, arms akimbo, waiting for her to quiet down. "Tell Ron he can move in with me. I have plenty of room."

Hermione blinked. Twice. It was like a fog had beenlifted. It was something she had not considered. Move in with someone who already had a place, someone that wasn't her. It was… genius.

"Really, Neville? You'd do that?" Hermione hugged him forcefully. He chuckled, this time much more heartily.

"Of course, why not? Ron and I are good friends, and this place may not be huge, but it's certainly bigger than your flat! I have a spare bedroom and everything. It'll be perfect."

"Wow, Neville, this idea is genius," Hermione gushed, promptly giving him a kiss on the cheek. He turned faintly red and grinned from ear to ear.

"I'm glad to help. It's no trouble at all!"

"Great."

They sat back down to their tea and enjoyed a comfortable, content silence for a moment or two, until Hermione realized something.

"Neville, I'm so sorry! You invited me here to tell me something, and we immediately became wrapped up in my problems!"

"Oh, it's fine!" Neville brushed her apologies aside, "In fact, what I wanted to tell you concerns you much more than me."

"Oh?"

Neville grinned again. Hermione felt so lucky to have a friend who was so jovial. "The other day, Pomona told me something rather interesting. When we're both working, she has a habit of… well, speaking before thinking, I suppose. Says stuff that maybe would be better off kept quiet. Anyway, she said that now that Professor McGonagall is to be the Headmistress starting this September, there are quite a few faculty changes taking place, and 'your friend Ms. Granger may be getting an owl, soon enough.'"

Hermione was quite taken aback by this news. She was being invited to teach at Hogwarts? This was not expected in the least. She had heard rumors of Professor McGonagall's promotion, but she hadn't been sure. So the position of Transfiguration Professor was open, but Neville had said "quite a few faculty changes," so what exactly did that mean?

"Wow, I'm… surprised," Hermione said, feeling rather dumb. Neville continued to grin. He was clearly excited by the news. She wasn't sure how she felt yet. "It's definitely something to think about."

"Why? This is wonderful!" Neville pressed, his excited emanating from him in waves, "You can return to Hogwarts, it's such an amazing opportunity! And you were always a fantastic teacher at school, Hermione. You helped me, Harry, Ron… and we all did so well!"

"You would've done just as well without me, I'm sure," Hermione corrected him.

"Don't say that, you know what a huge help you were! Just think, you'll be right here! We'll see each other all the time!" Neville was positively glowing.

Hermione gave a shaky smile. "I do miss you, Neville. That would certainly be a plus."

Neville nodded, "And now Ron, too!"

"Right," She sank back into the couch cushion, contemplating this situation. "Neville, I had to endure a year and a half of training for my Ministry job, and I haven't even been an official for a year yet. My parents helped me out a lot financially during that time. I think to give it all up now would be a bit ungrateful."

"But I know your parents. Well," He corrected that statement, "I've met them a few times, and I'm sure they'd be proud of you no matter what you do."

"I know, but my job, Neville. It pays a lot. And I do enjoy it, even if it's not exactly what I had hoped."

"And teaching could be exactly what you need! Passing your knowledge unto others… it'll be perfect for you!" Neville was so eager, it was endearing.

"I'm definitely going to consider it," she stated firmly, a tone that said _please don't try to talk me into it; I'm quite capable of making my own decisions_.

"That's good enough for me, Hermione!" He was slightly less excited than before, but his smile was valiant.

Hermione stood and gathered her things. "Thanks a lot, Neville. I'm glad you told me this. It was nice to hear it from a friend."

"Right, anytime."

"I'll owl you as soon as I figure things out, and I'll let Ron know that you're willing to share your cottage with him! I'm sure he'll be thrilled!"

"Okay! See you soon."

They hugged one last time before Hermione threw out the second muggle newspaper and exited onto the streets of Hogsmeade. She apparated back to her flat and sat down to write an immediate owl to Ron, but she was very distracted the entire time.

It was certainly a respectable opportunity, but was it worth throwing away all that training and hard work? And the look on Neville's face… he was so disappointed when it seemed like she probably wasn't going to take the job.

She'd work out the kinks with Professor McGonagall if she ever officially got the invitation. Maybe they'd find someone better. After all, Hermione was young, not even 21. There were even some students still at Hogwarts who had been there when she herself was a student! Maybe it would be considered inappropriate. She could only hope. She'd rather avoid the disappointed look in Neville's eye.

She finished up her letter, tied it to the foot of her owl, Tonks, and watched as it flew away towards Grimmauld Place. Hopefully, it would return with the solution to _one_ of her problems.

**xxxxx**

One minute, she was alone in her quiet sitting room, the next, her fireplace was ablaze and she had a dusty, coughing redhead sitting on her hearth. She jumped out of her seat and rushed to check if he was okay but found that he was fine, other than his reddening ears and flashing eyes.

"Ron, is everything all right?" She was concerned. It was unlike him, or any of her friends, to floo into her flat so unexpectedly. It was generally considered impolite, though the nature of their relationship made it okay. He'd just never done it before. She wouldn't have minded if not for his clearly angry disposition.

"You already told him I would, haven't you?" Ron stated, getting to his feet and stepping toward her. She stepped back instinctively, though she knew Ron would never do anything to hurt her. His height was just so imposing…

"What do you mean?" She was confused.

"Neville. He offered his place, and it seems like you've already told him that I'd jump right in and join him as his jolly roommate. Is that right?" Ron was clearly angry, though Hermione didn't understand why.

"Well, yes. I suppose I should have double checked first, but given your situation," she hesitated, realizing her folly, "I assumed you would be okay with it. You don't really have much choice, do you?"

Ron collapsed into the nearest chair and propped his head in his hands. She could tell she'd made a major mistake. She didn't think Ron had any problems with Neville, so she didn't quite understand why, but she was nervous about how to rectify the situation. She didn't want Neville's feelings to be hurt, especially if she was held responsible.

"I'm sorry, Ron. But it's such a nice place and you don't have any problems with Neville. I thought it would be a great fit," she tried to reason with him. "Maybe you're just nervous about moving in the first place? It'll be fine, really!"

"It's not that, Hermione. It's… it's Hogsmeade! Really, Hermione?" Ron shook his head, "You thought I'd be just fine and dandy packing up and moving all the way to _Scotland_? Neville's a great guy, but to feel like I was stranded with him… it would be too much, I think."

"Flooing and apparating are so quick and easy, I don't see how that's such a big deal. You could easily get back and forth to London or anywhere else anytime you wanted!" Hermione frowned, "If it's a problem you have with Neville, then come up with your own excuse, because he's a great guy and I don't see why you should."

"Oh, yeah? So marry him then!" Ron retorted in a huff.

Her jaw fell open and she stared at him in shocked anger for a moment. "Ron Weasley, you are acting like a child. What's your problem?"

Ron fell back into the chair and seemed a bit more calm upon her accusation. His tension lifted and his anger subsided, but he still seemed rather upset. "Nothing. Sorry. I just don't know if that's the right place for me right now. I can't live with Harry and Ginny because it would drive me crazy, and I can't find anywhere else to live. Neville's fine, I just don't know if we have much in common other than mutual experiences. Most of which are too painful to talk about. Herbology, research, his toad, whatever else he's into… I don't think we'd communicate well."

"I think you're overanalyzing it. It's a cute little cottage and he even has a spare bedroom so you'll have plenty of space, and I know how much you love Hogsmeade! Honeyduuukes," Hermione gave him an encouraging smile, "Better than turning it down and then having to sleep on my pull-out couch."

Ron bit his lip and closed his eyes. "But if I slept on your couch, at least I'd be near you," she gave him a surprised look until he added, "And Harry and Ginny, and I'll be close when the new baby is born…"

"Only a floo away. Apparating is even easier. Why are you being so stubborn? Don't hurt Neville's feelings, Ron. I'm sure it'll be fine," Hermione pleaded. He clearly didn't see how uncomfortable it would be for them to live together, and she was desperately hoping he would simply give in and agree to move in with Neville.

"I guess it couldn't hurt to try for a month or two," he finally relented.

"Oh, thank you, Ron!" She stood up to give him a hug. Relief washed over her like a flood. Crisis averted. "I'm sorry I didn't ask before, but would you like anything to eat or drink?"

"Yeah, anything, actually," he grinned for the first time since she'd seen him that day. "I'm starved."

Hermione crossed to the kitchen to prepare two sandwiches. She was almost finished and ready to pour two mugs of pumpkin juice when a large, official-looking owl soared through the window and dropped onto her counter. Hermione was surprised, as she rarely received messages from unknown senders, but took the letter from the creature's leg. She then gave it a piece of sandwich meat before it flew back out through the same window and took flight in the afternoon sky.

"Who's that from?" Ron asked, surfacing from his muggle television-induced coma and peering over the back of the couch.

"I don't know, let's find out!" Hermione smiled, unrolling the parchment and scanning it with her eyes.

Well, it turned out that Neville had been right. Hermione set the letter on the tray with the sandwiches, poured the pumpkin juice, and brought it all over to the coffee table. She sat beside Ron and handed him the letter. His eyes widened as he read it.

"I really don't know what to think of this," Hermione admitted. "I'm really curious about your opinion. Yesterday, Neville told me that Professor Sprout had mentioned that I might be getting a letter from McGonagall, but I hadn't expected it so soon. I wasn't even sure if it were true!"

Ron sank back into the couch and thought for a moment before making his decision, "You should definitely take this job."

"Really? You think so?" Hermione was surprised by how quickly he had come to such a definite conclusion. "Why?"

"Dunno!" Hermione hid a smirk. Ron was always _so_ eloquent. "It just seems fitting. You belong at Hogwarts, Hermione."

"But this job couldn't possibly pay as much as my Ministry job, could it?" she reasoned. She wasn't sure why she wanted Ron to change his mind, but she wanted to hear two sides of a story. Neville _and_ Ron both supporting the change made her nervous that she might make a rash decision.

Ron frowned at her. He seemed disappointed. He shook his head and said firmly, "When has salary ever been your main objective? There are plenty of people that can obliviate muggles, warn reckless teenagers, and prevent the revelation of the wizarding world. But can you count the number of really awesome teachers you've had on more than one hand?"

Hermione was surprised by the depth of Ron's opinions. She thought his decision had been too quick for that. Perhaps she underestimated him too often.

"But all my training would have gone to waste! And my parents have been so supportive and it would have been all for naught!" Hermione sighed, "I just don't think I can take this job in good conscience."

Ron's ears were turning red again. What had she said now?

"So you're going to ship me all the way to Scotland like it's no problem at all, but at the suggestion that you do the same, it's out of the question?" She realized he had an argument, but that was not the point. "You always think your rationalizations are faultless but sometimes your individual arguments are completely hypocritical!"

"Ron, please don't be like this. You're jumping to conclusions!" Hermione pleaded. She didn't want another fight with him. Their patience had worn so thin, and they'd been so good lately. She didn't want this to start up again. "I just need to think about what's right for me. It's different than what may be right for you."

"Oh, okay, that's rich," He was standing and clenching his fists, "I have no idea what's right for you, but you have the insight to know the perfect place for me to live!"

"You asked for my help!"

"So did you!"

Hermione realized how pointless this was and she said so, but this just made Ron even angrier.

"Next you're going to say that we all need to make our own decisions, right?" she shook her head but he didn't buy it. "I know you too well, Hermione, so don't lie. We all have to make our own decisions, but _you've_ made a pretty bloody important decision for me! You want to send me off to Scotland, but you won't go anywhere near it. Anywhere near _me_."

At this, he turned to leave, grabbing a handful of floo powder from her mantle. But she grabbed his forearm, spinning him around to face her. "Ron, this has nothing to do with you. My career is my own. My decision is not related to you whatsoever. I value your opinion as my friend, but it's not the only factor in my ultimate plan."

"I know. And that's exactly it."

And he was gone.

She was shell-shocked from the ferocity of their exchange. They hadn't had a fight so intense since they had broken up. What had he meant by "that's exactly it?" She was confused, but she knew this was the wrong time to seek answers. Instead she picked up the letter from Professor McGonagall. It seemed like as soon as she solved one problem, another one surfaced. Ron was moving in with Neville, thankfully, but she still didn't know what she'd do about this job and now she wasn't sure if she and Ron were even on speaking terms. What a mess.

The letter suggested that she come to Hogwarts the next evening to discuss the capacity of her position. She wrote a quick reply in the affirmative and sent it with Tonks, who had arrived earlier that morning bearing nothing. Looking back, she should have assumed this was bad news. Ron could have just sent a reply with Tonks, but she figured he'd send one with Pig. Not that she could have done anything to prevent the fight either way.

At the very least, she'd get to see Hogwarts again and talk to Professor McGonagall about how things have been there. She'd obviously have to address her reservations about the job, and she would either be persuaded or not. Hermione didn't know why she was resisting the change so much. Her mind seemed to recognize that it would be a great opportunity for her, but she was afraid she'd feel guilty about the loss of her position at the Ministry and all the hard work she'd put in.

But now that she'd sent the letter, it would be in extremely poor taste not to meet with Professor McGonagall the next day, so she resolved to face the consequences the next evening. Perhaps she'd even stop by Neville's to make an apology to Ron, assuming he'd moved in by then (which he probably would be. As annoyed as he may have been about the arrangement, she knew he was already packed to leave 12 Grimmauld Place). She didn't really think she had anything to be sorry about, but she knew they wouldn't get anywhere until someone stepped up and opened the lines of communication. Besides, it couldn't hurt, could it? At the very least, it wouldn't make a difference.


	2. An Honor, A Privilege, A Bonus

Chapter Two

An Honor, A Privilege, A Bonus

Another day's work complete. She'd written four letters to underage witches and wizards who had practiced magic that day. Summer holidays were always chock full of kids trying to get away with it. She'd also sent six letters to people who had performed magic at a proximity to muggles that was too close for comfort. Usually, it was unintentional, but they needed to be warned anyway. She'd also helped make a few alterations to a new law they were trying to pass about the use of glamour charms in certain regions where muggles were accustomed to artificial appearances. There were certain areas where muggles had a knack for noticing that a face wasn't natural, and they had a habit of asking, "Who's your plastic surgeon?" Unfortunately, most witches and wizards had never heard of plastic surgery, which resulted in some minor disruption. The law required witches and wizards employing glamour charms in public muggle places to be educated in the basics of muggle cosmetics and etc. Hermione had consulted her parents on one or two points involving teeth whitening practices. The law wasn't all that interesting, but it was necessary. Kind of.

Before she left that day, she decided to pay a visit to Arthur Weasley in the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. She didn't run into him all that often even though they both worked on Level Two at the Ministry of Magic Headquarters, but she made it a point to drop in every so often. Maybe he could give her some advice about her job predicament and maybe some insight on his son's unfortunate reaction as well.

"Hermione, dear girl!" he greeted her after admitting her entrance to his office, "Do sit down!"

"Hello, Mr. Weasley. How are you?"

"Fine, fine," he said happily. "How are you? You look a tad distressed."

"Well I seem to have a lot on my plate right now," she admitted, sitting in the proffered chair.

"That glamour charm law getting the best of you?" he asked, shaking his head, "Not that I'd ever really use a glamour charm, but I'm still not understanding the details of this 'plastic surgery' thing. Muggles cut each other's faces off and replace them with new ones?"

"Something like that," Hermione smiled. Mr. Weasley's innocent fascination with muggles would always link them together. "But it's not that. I got an owl from Minerva McGonagall yesterday. She is offering me a teaching job at Hogwarts."

"What an honor!" he exclaimed, excitement written all over his face. Hermione should have known better; she thought he might have seen it from a more practical perspective. Maybe she was the one being impractical. "What subject?"

"I don't know yet," Hermione said. "From what I've heard, she's planning on making a few faculty changes. So I don't even know which positions are available."

"Well, you've always been the best and brightest. Whatever the subject, you'll be a fantastic fit. Congratulations!" His genuine pride in her made her blush and she smiled down at her hands, which were folded in her lap. She suddenly felt rather ashamed about her previous skepticism. She still wasn't sure what the right choice was, but she hadn't considered what a privilege it was to be offered such a highly respectable job.

"So you think I should take it?" Hermione asked.

He seemed dumbfounded. "Well, I hadn't realized you had any other intentions! Tell me what you're thinking."

She knew she'd come to the right person. Arthur clearly thought she should take the job, but he wanted to know her feelings on the subject. She knew he'd help her see this decision through, the right way.

"It's just that I've trained so long and hard for my position here at the Ministry and I'm afraid that I'll regret giving it up," she started. He nodded.

"Well, once you've finished you're training, if you decide to leave, you know they'll always welcome you back if they have positions open. That's not really something you need to worry about Hermione," he winked. "You're overqualified for your job."

Hermione blushed again. She wasn't sure if he was right, but she figured he certainly knew more about the inner workings of the Ministry than she did. "But there's also my parents," she began to explain, and a concerned look came into Arthur's eye. "We're so close, and I knew it wouldn't be a problem to see them every so often on weekends. But they were so helpful with my finances during my training when I wasn't able to pay my rent after I'd moved out from Harry's place. I feel like it would have been a waste of their money for me to back out now."

"Hermione, as a parent, I can assure you that your parents will support you no matter what you choose to pursue as your ultimate career," he said compassionately, leaning forward towards her over his desk. "They supported you then, and they will now, too. They will understand that interests change and opportunities arise, and if you decide that teaching is the best option for you, they will be so proud of you for realizing that and going for it. I will be!" he smiled, and then added. "That is, if you do decide to go to Hogwarts. Not that I don't love having you here on the same floor. Your visits always brighten my day."

"Thanks, Mr. Weasley," Hermione stood. "I'm still not positive about my decision, and I probably won't decide until my meeting with Professor McGonagall, but this has been a very helpful conversation."

"Anytime," he smiled kindly at her. "Was there anything else that was bothering you?"

She shrugged. "Ron and I got into a fight yesterday." He was about to ask details, but she explained to him that it was too complicated to be worth describing. "But," she assured him, "I found Ron a place to live! Neville has offered to let him stay in the spare bedroom in his cottage in Hogsmeade."

"Wonderful!" Arthur grinned. "What a great place! I remember the old days… The Three Broomsticks! That's where Molly and I had our first date, y'know."

Hermione smiled. "I better get going; I need to floo into Hogsmeade and head over to the castle by 7:00. Have a good night!"

"You, too," he said, seeing her out. "And y'know, Hermione, I'm sure you and Ron will sort out whatever it is you're disagreeing about. You always do."

"I hope so." She figured he was right. It's not like this sort of thing had never happened before.

"Maybe we can set up a day where you can explain this 'nose job' concept to me again. And tooth whitening… it seems so bizarre!"

"Sure, Mr. Weasley," she smiled. "Just owl me!"

Hermione headed back to her office to gather her things and then made her way to the Atrium where she flooed back to her flat. She changed out of her work clothes and into something a bit more appropriate for a meeting with her old Transfiguration professor. Tossing a handful of floo dust form her mantle into the fireplace, she stepped in and stated firmly, "Neville Longbottom's cottage in Hogsmeade!"

She found herself on the floor, but picked herself up and brushed herself off before Neville had the chance to come to her aid. Instead, he just gave her a bear hug and picked her bag up off the floor and handed it to her.

"Thanks Neville," she smiled. "And thanks for letting me floo here."

"Anytime, Hermione!" Neville said. "I'm glad you're meeting with McGonagall. I hope you're considering this job. I still think it'll be perfect for you."

Hermione nodded before peering over Neville's shoulder to find the rest of the living room and kitchen empty. "Has Ron settled in yet? Is he around?"

Before Neville could reply, a door banged open and Ron emerged with a discontent expression on his face. "Actually," he said, "I was just leaving." He exited through the backyard.

"Leaving for the backyard?" She questioned. But then she heard the familiar pop of apparition and felt foolish about her skepticism of Ron's actions.

"I don't think it was a trip he'd been planning," Neville reassured her. "I had a feeling the two of you had gotten into a fight. Anything I can help with?"

Hermione knew it would hurt Neville if he knew what the subject of the fight had initially been so she shook her head. "No, it's nothing important. I'm sure we'll get over it soon enough."

"Okay."

"I'd better get going. Don't want to be late!" Hermione thanked him once again as he opened the door for her.

"Good luck!" he called as she walked toward the gates that would lead her onto Hogwarts grounds.

Hermione felt little butterflies playing tag in her abdomen and realized that she was relatively anxious about this meeting. It wasn't Professor McGonagall who made her nervous – she was always very kind to Hermione, a star pupil. It was just this choice she was so afraid to make. Wondering if she would have to make her decision by the end of the night, she crossed the grounds, taking everything in. She wouldn't blame the Headmistress for being impatient about Hermione's answer. If she declined, McGonagall would have to find someone else to take the job.

Square patches of light were dancing a short distance away, awakening an intrinsic itch in Hermione to visit Hagrid. Tonight was not the night, however. She couldn't be late for her meeting, but she decided that she'd visit Hagrid the next chance she had. It had been too long. Of course, she'd seen Hagrid a few times, but never in the old way. They'd be at a meeting for the Order together, though those were few and far between these days. More like celebratory or commemoration dinners hosted by Harry. In fact, she hadn't been to Hogwarts since the end of what would have been her seventh year, if not for the horcrux hunt. She had returned a couple of weeks after the final battle when she, Harry, Ron, Luna, Dean, and others were awarded metals of honor and recognition certificates that confirmed that, though they did not officially finish their schooling, they were qualified enough to go out into the world with the rest of their former classmates.

It was too dark to see the lake, but peering back over her shoulder, she could just barely make out the distant line of trees marking the edge of the Forbidden Forest. They blocked the faint light of stars and the moon, creating an even darker impression on the sky. A similar effect was caused by the Quidditch Pitch, half blocked by a portion of the castle. She smiled. It felt good to be back. It was her home away from home, and even the smell of the castle grounds sent her pulse racing. She reached the great oak doors and pushed through.

The Entrance Hall was deserted, though it was lit up as if school were in full swing. She noticed on her walk through the grounds that the castle had only been partially lit. She supposed there were certain areas of the school that went unused through the summer and therefore had no need of being lit. For instance, the windows to the Great Hall were dark. Hermione vaguely wondered what the ceiling would look like and if the enchantment was in effect all year round. She continued up the stairs and made her way to the Headmistress' Office. This particular path through the castle was brightly lit all the way to the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance.

Hermione uttered the password Professor McGonagall had revealed in her letter ("Montrose Magpies;" McGonagall always had been a fan of Quidditch) and rounded the spiral staircase until she reached the doors to the office. They opened for her and she stepped inside, finding the Headmistress seated behind the large desk.

Hermione noticed the changes to the room immediatelyn. There were no phoenix, no tinkering objects and devices, and there were three new portraits on the wall. Dumbledore, Snape, and Dewurdy, last year's failed Headmaster. That was when Hermione realized that she had not been in this office in years. It was an odd sensation. There were books lining the walls, more than there had been when Dumbledore occupied the office, she thought. There were also a number of files organized neatly on a set of shelves directly beside the Headmistress' desk. She could tell that McGonagall had been reading a few of those just before Hermione came in, as there were a number of them opened on her desk.

Hermione had thought seeing McGonagall inhabiting this room would be strange, but the professor seemed to fit right in. Without Dumbledore's many collectibles, the office was less his and more of… well, simply more of an office.

"Hermione, you look well," McGonagall greeted her, motioning towards the chair, "Take a seat and make yourself comfortable. How have you been?"

"Very well, Professor, thank you," Hermione replied, sitting in the chair on the opposite side of the desk from her old teacher, feeling slightly nervous but less so than she had anticipated.

"Good, good," McGonagall said, a bit distractedly, as she gathered the papers she had been reading and piled them up to one side. "Oh, and please call me Minerva. I am no longer your teacher and I have no qualms about considering you a deserving equal."

Hermione was surprised by this token of familiarity but smiled warmly. "I noticed that only certain lights are on in the castle at the moment," she commented.

"Yes, well," Professor McGonagall explained, "I'm really the only person who has been here much this summer. Though being Deputy Headmistress gave me access to many things, I still have a lot to read and take care of now that the Board of Governors has promoted me. Logistics, rules that need to be adhered to," she paused. "I've discovered that our beloved Headmaster Dewurdy didn't really understand the necessities his position posed and he did some things that aren't exactly… permitted." This drew an affronted snort from the newest portrait. "Not that you were a bad person," McGonagall addressed the portrait, "Just rather incompetent. But then again, Albus ignored quite a few rules himself, so I suppose it's all relative."

Hermione glanced up at the three newest portraits. Dewurdy glared down at McGonagall in annoyance. He was a stubby old man with very little hair and some pathetic scruffles on his chin. Next to him was Snape, who seemed to have paid little attention to McGonagall's accusations. He was sitting towards the back of the portrait, facing outward at an angle that directed his attention away from the Headmistress' desk. Finally, to his left, was Dumbledore, eyes twinkling and smiling even within the confines of a frame. Hermione smiled up at him and earned a wink. Then McGonagall began talking again, so she gave her her undivided attention.

"Now, I'd love to catch up with you but now simply isn't the time, and I apologize for that," McGonagall said, pushing the conversation in the direction of more important matters. "I have a lot more of these papers to look over by next week. Also, I'm sorry for the rush, but I'll really need a definite answer from you by tomorrow night. We need to make these arrangements as soon as possible, and I'm making a lot of changes."

Hermione was relieved that she wouldn't have to make a decision by the end of the evening, but understood the importance of stating her choice as soon as she knew for sure (or by tomorrow night, whichever came first).

"Next week, Professor? But school doesn't start for another two and a half weeks."

"Well, if you do choose to take this job, which I am certainly hoping you will, you'll be back here next week with the rest of the professors for a week-long orientation that I'm organizing. I want to sort some things out and there are many things that need to be brought up and discussed with the faculty as a whole. It should be a good experience for everyone, I think," she cleared her throat and clasped her hands together on the desk. "Now, onto business! Hermione, please understand that this is an offer I hold very close to my heart, because it's not only a matter of finding the right person for the job, it's also a matter of finding someone who can live up to the precedents set by _me_," she smiled. Hermione felt her stomach flip. She knew what the Headmistress was alluding to, and the pride that suddenly enveloped her made her breath catch for a moment. "Which is why I'm asking you to accept the position of Transfigurations Professor here at Hogwarts."

"Wow, Professor… I don't know what to say," Hermione murmured, honestly floored by the honor she felt was being bestowed on her. Clearly, McGonagall would want the best for her old position, and she had chosen Hermione.

"Please, please, _Minerva_," she corrected, still smiling. "I understand that you may have a few reservations about this and I'd like to clear up a few things before you start considering _anything_," she paused. "I remember when you were a student here, one of your many talents was your ability to communicate with your classmates and help them with their academic work as well as a number of other things. This was one of the reasons that I always felt you would make a wonderful teacher. In addition, despite your age, I feel that your level of maturity is at a point where your proximity in age to the students shouldn't pose any problems. The Board of Governers originally wanted me to wait a few years before hiring you, but I made a strong case for you. And of course, they had no problems in accepting Mr. Malfoy, and to see the effect he has on these students is certainly more worrisome than whatever it is they're worried you will do. So I managed to convince them."

Hermione frowned slightly. She had forgotten all about Malfoy. He had been hired as Potions Master last year at only 19 years old. It had gotten him quite a bit of publicity, and she had heard some unsavory rumors, but she was hoping that even Malfoy wouldn't sink so low…

"Anyway, another key ingredient to this mix, of course, is salary," McGonagall proceeded. "I know you're not so shallow as to count it as your deciding factor," Hermione winced inwardly, remembering that part of her argument with Ron, "But I want you to be assured that the difference will be minute. Your Ministry position certainly pays more than a teaching job, but you must remember that along with your salary, you get to stay here through the school year free of charge. In addition, you get three full-course meals every day."

She certainly hadn't considered that. It was quite a bonus. Professor McGonagall was making this seem better and better by the minute. Hermione nodded, indicating that she had understood this and allowed the Headmistress to continue.

"There will also be other opportunities for you to increase your pay by taking on extra responsibilities. A few extra night watches here and there, helping to organize certain events, chaperoning Hogsmeade weekends," McGonagall quickly added, "None of this is required, of course, but you catch my drift."

"You make quite a case," Hermione admitted, sitting back in the chair to ponder all that she had learned. "My main concern is that I've spent all this time training for the Ministry and I don't know if I want to just give that all up quite yet."

"Understand that I can tell you as a teacher myself, this job is every bit as satisfying as you could imagine," Professor McGonagall said. Hermione instinctively trusted her judgment and nodded.

"You've given me a lot to think about," Hermione said. "I will have your answer for you by tomorrow night. Thank you so much for this opportunity."

"You're very welcome," McGonagall said, leading her towards the door. "I hope to see you next week! Send Potter and Weasley my regards."

"I certainly will," Hermione assured her before descending the spiral staircase. Out of curiosity, she chose to take a different, less orthodox path than the one she had taken on her way to the office. She discovered that the lights followed her when she chose to turn down a corridor that had previously been dark. She noticed the portraits watching her pass, and heard a few of them comment on how they "haven't seen this one in a while! Wonder what she's doing here!" One portrait, a young lord dressed in partial armor and standing before the crest of Slytherin House announced that he would find Phineas Nigellus to get the scoop from the Headmistress' Office. Hermione waved to a few that she remembered from her school days and they greeted her warmly. She was surprised not to encounter any ghosts, but did not dwell on it. As long as Peeves stayed away, she wasn't complaining.

She made her way out of the castle and back across the grounds. She noticed that the lights in Hagrid's hut were still lit, but decided she'd save that reunion for another day. She had a lot to think about.

Finally arriving at Neville's cottage, she knocked and was greeted with many questions of how it had gone and what she was thinking. Ron was still nowhere in sight, but his bedroom door was now closed and she suspected that he was holed up inside it.

"I'm not saying that my decision is final, but McGonagall really sold me," Hermione admitted with a small smile. Neville looked thrilled. "I think I'll probably take the job."

"That's great, Hermione," Neville said happily, hugging her. "As long as you're making the best decision for you."

"I think I am, Neville. Thank you for your support. It means a lot," Hermione said this perhaps a bit louder than was necessary, hoping that if Ron really were in his room, he might overhear.

"Sleep on it," Neville suggested with a wink and one last pat on the back.

Hermione kissed him on the cheek, and as she flooed back to her flat, she saw the on-schedule blush creep across his face as he waved goodbye.


	3. The Wrath Of Mafalda Hopkirk

Chapter 3

The Wrath Of Mafalda Hopkirk

The Ministry was busy that day. People were popping in and out of the Atrium and paper airplanes and other folded creations were swooping through the air, weaving between the heads of people heading to their offices. Hermione strode through the hall with purpose, though many of the butterflies she'd felt the night before were returning. She knew she could postpone this meeting until the next day but decided the sooner she got it over with, the better. Besides, a "maybe" still held more promise than a "definite yes," so perhaps that would soften the blow.

She took a lift to level two, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and briefly considered going straight to the Head of the entire department. It would certainly be less painful, but she quickly thought better of it. Mafalda Hopkirk would be enraged if Hermione were to skip over her with the news. Might as well face the music.

Hermione had gotten off to a rough start with the Improper Use of Magic Office. That wasn't to say she didn't breeze through training or do her job perfectly well, but Mafalda Hopkirk wasn't exactly a fan of hers. Once upon a time, Hermione, Harry, and Ron had broken into the Ministry of Magic and Hermione had used a polyjuice potion to impersonate Hopkirk. Back then, the witch had been a mere assistant, but since then had been promoted to Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office. Hopkirk was a stringent follower of rules and during that time had been a big help to Dolores Umbridge in persecuting muggleborns. She publicly apologized for her actions, explaining that she was only doing what the Ministry required her to do in order to keep her job. Hermione didn't blame the woman for simply following orders, but when the details of the horcrux hunt had been released, the revelation of Hermione's impersonation stunt had not been lost on Hopkirk. She had always been bitter and came down on Hermione hard for any mistakes she made, big or small. Or even nonexistent.

The door loomed ahead. Hermione took deep breaths. It wasn't really that big of a deal, she just had to get it over with. Hopkirk may even be pleased by the idea that she wouldn't have to work with her anymore. This thought gave Hermione a new sense of confidence as she knocked on the door as politely as possible.

"Come in!"

She closed the door behind her just as Hopkirk was clucking her tongue and saying, "Oh, no, no, _nooo_!" she grabbed the quill that had been set to write of its own accord, "'Come in' is not the next person's name! If only I could get this quill to somehow _understand_ me rather than just copy down everything I say. Let me just finish this stack, if you don't mind."

Nodding, Hermione remained standing. She knew better than to sit without being invited to do so. Hopkirk was a stickler for rules as well as manners, though the manners she believed in usually applied to "your elders," but didn't always translate both ways.

The wispy-haired witch propped up the quill once more and proceeded to recite a list of names. The quill promptly copied the names onto pre-written letters, which then levitated itself to a stack of other completed letters.

"Greebler, Biblius; Greengrass, Noah; Grinwell, Mirabelle; Gunther, Fortinae; Gurgle, Gloria. There, that's the end of the stack. No more G's! Why don't you have a seat and tell me what this is all about, hmm?"

Hermione sat as instructed and clasped her hands in her lap. It was so unfair. Mafalda Hopkirk was a generally well-liked witch, but she just _had_ to be nasty to Hermione. The Polyjuice Potion incident had been for the good of the world! If only she would forgive her, she'd have a much easier time of this.

"I've been offered a job at Hogwarts as professor of Transfiguration," Hermione stated bluntly, preparing herself for the worst.

Hopkirk stroked the feathers of her quill mindlessly, thinking for a moment. "And are you going to accept this offer?"

"I haven't decided quite yet, but I will have an answer for you tomorrow morning," Hermione explained. "And if I do take it, I will remain here on the job until the end of the week, but then I will have to leave to prepare for the school year."

"I see," Hopkirk was still stroking that quill. She pursed her lips before she spoke again, her voice this time a bit lower, "You do realize that your salary as a teacher would certainly not equal your current pay. And the training you've been through for this position would have been all for naught."

The woman seemed to read Hermione's mind. Her trepidations about money had long since been put to rest, but the wasted time and effort… Well, Hopkirk definitely knew how to get to her!

"I understand that," Hermione said, "and I've considered it all. I would have had my mind made up by now, but I have a couple of friends I'd like to consult first. I'm planning on visiting them this evening."

Hopkirk narrowed her eyes at Hermione, "And if you had to choose right this moment, what would that choice be, may I ask?"

Hermione hesitated. This wasn't something she had planned on doing until the next morning when her mind was officially made up.

"I would take it."

Hopkirk sighed, "What a pity! A talent like you…" she paused, Hermione suspected it was for dramatic effect, "You know the saying, 'youth is wasted on the young?'" Hermione nodded, unsure of where the witch was going with this. "Some of the most brilliant people are wasted on the young, as well. Does it really take the brightest witch the Minsitry has seen in years to teach a bunch of children how to turn a porcupine into a pin cushion? It's been done so many times and you could be using your intelligence in so many better ways."

Hermione did not say anything. She distinctly disagreed with Hopkirk on this point. She remembered what Ron had said the other day, "Can you count the number of really awesome teachers you've had on more than one hand?" Most of what Hermione had been doing in her current position was signing letters, much like Hopkirk herself had been doing only moments ago. Leave it to the head of a department or office to glorify the work that was being done there. That very glorification been what roped Hermione into wanting this job initially. And all that training she had gone through was purely based on emergency circumstances. They got a case that required real magic and real skill maybe once every five or ten years.

"You would have risen to great heights here," Hopkirk continued, trying her hardest to make Hermione feel as guilty as possible, "The Head of the Department even suggested to me that a promotion should not be far off, and I was considering the possibilities for your future intently."

This was doubtful. Hopkirk would probably keep Hermione down as long as she possibly could until the Head actually _demanded_ that she be promoted.

"You probably would have even filled my shoes one day," Hopkirk smirked, "Oh, wait, you've done that already, haven't you?"

Hermione glared back at her. She genuinely liked the rest of her coworkers, and as Hopkirk communicated with Hermione as little as possible, she didn't have to deal with her on a regular basis. But she had had just about enough. "Is there anything else, ma'am, because I really do believe I should get to work," she all but bit out, trying to keep her voice as level as possible.

"No, no, that would be all," Hopkirk said, gathering some new papers for a new stack of letters. "I hope you make the right decision. Don't slack off now just because you may not be here much longer!"

Hermione rose from the chair, turned on her heels, and left the office as fast as she could without visibly rushing. _"Slack off" my arse!_ Hermione thought, anger fogging her vision for a moment. If there was one insult she detested the most, it was a blow to her work ethic.

Reaching her office, and perhaps pushing the door shut with more force than was necessary, she sat at her desk and tried to think calming thoughts, but they wouldn't come.

_Slack off_… she grit her teeth. Take those letters Hopkirk had been finishing off just as she entered her office, for example! Hermione had been the one to write those. They were letters sent home to all the families of students that would be starting Hogwarts as first years on September 1st. They guaranteed that parents and students alike were aware of the rights and rules for underage witches and wizards and what magic was considered "improper" at school, during holidays, and over the summer. It was a policy instated after the fall of Voldemort to make sure that students were not partaking in any dangerous practices outside of the classroom before they came of age. In fact, Hermione had been one of the key contributors in the writing of the new extended contract that detailed all of this. And that had been finished while she was still in training!

Maybe everyone was right. Everyone but Mafalda Hopkirk, that was. Perhaps she _was_ too good for this job!

Hopkirk was clearly not open to the idea of Hermione finding a more suitable job. McGonagall, on the other hand, though she obviously wanted Hermione to join the Hogwarts faculty, understood that she needed to make the best choice _for herself_. If the boss-to-employee relationship in both of her options was any indication, she would clearly be happier and better utilized at the school.

Her mind was made up. However, like she had told Hopkirk, she wanted to consult with a couple of friends first. Of course, she knew what they would say, but she wanted to cover all her bases before finalizing her decision. Perhaps they would want her to be closer with the pregnancy and everything. She'd tell them what she told Ron: just because she'd be in Scotland didn't mean it was anymore difficult to floo or apparate.

She had to stop trying to foretell the conversation. She had never been good at Divination, anyway. She sat back and waited for the day to end.

**xxxxx**

Hermione knocked on the door of 12 Grimmauld Place. While there wasn't really any need for the incredible amount of protection that the house had always been placed under anymore, it was still hidden from muggle eyes. After all, it would have been suspicious for house number 12 to suddenly appear on Grimmauld Place overnight, especially after the residents had already gotten used to the "mistake" in the numbering. In addition, Harry, Ron, and Hermione hadn't minded the privacy when they moved in after the Battle of Hogwarts, anyway.

The door opened but Hermione saw no one there until it was closed behind her and she looked down to find Kreacher bowing to her. "Welcome back, Miss Hermione," he greeted her proudly.

"Good evening, Kreacher. How are you?" Hermione always addressed house-elves with respect. Though the days of S.P.E.W. were long gone, she had always believed that treating a house-elf kindly was the only way for the strange relationship between elves and humans to be preserved properly without any rebellions. Besides, a house-elves' magic was easily comparable to the brute of a Hippogriff, and wizards treated Hippogriffs with respect, did they not?

"Kreacher is doing well, Miss. Kreacher is having a most relaxing summer vacation away from Hogwarts," he showed her through the hall. Based on the time, she was sure that Harry and Ginny were eating dinner. She hoped they wouldn't mind her dropping in unexpectedly.

Suddenly, a rather strong (though small) force knocked into her legs, threatening to upset her balance, but the embrace that followed held her in place. She looked down to find Winky with her arms wrapped around her legs.

"Nice to see you too, Winky!" she giggled.

"Oh, Miss Hermione, Harry Potter is so glad to be seeing you! He is always missing his friends and we was all hoping that you was visiting soon! Miss Ginny is also missing you, but it is mostly Harry Potter, for you see Miss, he was used to living with his friends so it is a piece of his heart that is gone. But there is a new Potter coming and they is all very pleased!" Winky grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her down the stairs to the kitchen. Kreacher followed close behind, occasionally grunting in agreement with Winky's babbling. The elder house-elf didn't have much patience for Winky. Hermione had learned this that first summer when they moved in and invited the two Hogwarts-employed house-elves to live with them until the school year started. However, it appeared that Kreacher had grown more accustomed to Winky's excited energy since then.

Though the mention of the word "Crouch" still made Winky burst into tears, she had come a long way since her depression. In fact, she proudly told most people she came across that she was "23 months sober!" Dobby had been a big help with the start of the rehabilitation process, but when he died, Winky had reached for the bottle once again. However, after the war was over, Hermione had made it her personal mission, in between training and anything she had going on in her personal life, to help Winky become the cheerful house-elf she was meant to be. As a result, Hermione and Winky had formed a very special friendship-like bond.

Hermione allowed herself to be pulled into the kitchen where she found that Harry and Ginny were indeed eating dinner. When they saw her come in, Ginny immediately put down her fork and ran over to give her a hug, still chewing. Harry got up after making sure Ginny sat down okay (she was only three months pregnant and hardly showing, but he was already treating her as if she were on bed rest) and hugged her next. They invited her to sit down, and she helped herself to a plate of food. She asked all the usual questions about the pregnancy and the wedding. They were planning on marrying over the December holidays.

"That's great! I'll definitely be able to attend, then!" Hermione said happily.

Her two friends were confused and looked at each other before Harry asked, "Er… are you going away somewhere?"

"Kind of," Hermione hinted, enjoying the suspense she was building for them. They stared at her expectantly until she couldn't hold it in anymore. "Oh, all right!" she burst. "McGonagall has asked me to be the new Transfigurations Professor!"

"Oh, Hermione, that's wonderful!" Ginny gushed, getting up to walk around the table and embrace Hermione once more.

"That's so perfect," Harry agreed. "I can't think of a better thing for you to be doing. Or a better place for you to be!"

"I'm glad you think so," Hermione said, relieved. She didn't know why she felt that way, considering she never expected them to disapprove. "I wanted to see how you felt about it before I wrote her an owl accepting her offer."

"What, as if you ever had any second thoughts?" Harry inquired. "I thought you would've accepted on the spot!"

She shook her head. "I suppose Ron hasn't mentioned anything to you yet, huh?"

"He told us that you were the one to set him up with Neville, but he didn't say anything about this!" Ginny replied.

Hermione sighed. "We got into a fight. It was really stupid. But he's still mad at me and I don't really know how to approach it," she admitted. Before they had a chance to ask how that was related to her news, she added, "I don't really want to get into it right now. I'm just hoping it'll blow over like everything else."

They accepted this and there was silence for a moment. All of her arguments with Ron were getting so old. Hermione also knew in the back of her mind that she was also reluctant to admit to her own hypocrisy, but she stifled that thought. Winky finally broke the tension.

"Is it correct that Winky is hearing of Miss Hermione coming to Hogwarts?" she asked in amazement. "And that Winky is having the honor of making meals for her every single day?"

Hermione couldn't help but smile at this and nodded her head. Winky nearly fainted. Clearly the excitement was too much for her.

"Kreacher, is you not hearing?" Winky looked around at the other elf. Kreacher did not seem as thrilled, but did not show any signs of negative emotion, either. "Is you so insulting of Miss Hermione that you is not even saying anything at all?"

"Kreacher is delighted to be assisting Miss Hermione throughout the year," Kreacher commented. "Despite her unfortunate lineage, Kreacher feels great respect for Miss Hermione."

"It's true!" Winky exploded energetically, "Kreacher is working at Hogwarts with so many muggleborns and he is not even saying a negative word to a single one!" She then lowered her voice and approached the table so that only the three of them could hear, "I is suspecting that maybe Kreacher is not knowing who is muggleborn and who is not and that is why he is not insulting them." She turned back to Kreacher who glared at her suspiciously, "Winky is just kidding, Kreacher is a great friend to Winky! And a great Hogwarts house-elf!"

Kreacher grunted in reply and made his way over to his nest in the corner of the kitchen. Harry had offered Kreacher his own bedroom, but he had refused, feeling that it was not appropriate in the House of Black. Winky had never made any permanent sleeping arrangements of her own, but she often curled up on a couch or armchair in the sitting room.

"I am very excited to be joining you there, both of you," Hermione said, smiling. It seemed as though a lot of her reservations about taking the job were based on comparing the jobs themselves. She hadn't really thought about all the perks that came with living at Hogwarts. She suddenly found herself looking forward to it immensely. Knowing this was the moment she had been waiting for, she rose from the table and excused herself, "Sorry to leave so soon, I just really need to go write that acceptance note to Professor McGonagall. Thank you for dinner, and thanks for helping me realize how great this is going to be."

Harry and Ginny both grinned widely at her. "We're so happy for you, Hermione," Ginny said, getting up to hug her. Harry followed suit and they walked her to the front door, Winky trailing close behind (Kreacher had already fallen asleep).

"Goodbye, Miss Hermione! Winky is seeing you soon!"

**xxxxx**

Mafalda Hopkirk pursed her lips and Hermione shuffled her feet nervously. It wasn't that she didn't want to offend the woman, because honestly, she could care less. It wasn't that she was worried about her reputation; everyone knew that Hermione Granger was a force to be reckoned with and worthy of praise as well as admiration. And she wasn't being vain, either. She just needed to remind herself that getting on this one woman's bad side wasn't going to ruin her for good. Besides, she had been on Hopkirk's bad side already for reasons that everyone else patted her on the back for. It wasn't her fault that Hopkirk had been available for polyjuice that day. What a coincidence that Hermione should attempt a career in that same woman's arena. Well, that was over now. She supposed if teaching really didn't work out, she could come back once Hopkirk retired (which should be within the next few years). In between, Hermione could find a temporary job. It shouldn't be too hard. She had stellar credentials. Anyway, was she ever even planning on pursuing a career as a teacher for real or was she just doing Professor McGonagall a favor? There must be more qualified Transfigurations professors out there. The Headmistress just didn't have time to find one right now with so many preparations to take care of, and since Hermione was such a recent graduate, she must have been at the forefront of the woman's mind.

Suddenly, she blinked back to the present to find that Hopkirk was still pursing her lips. It had only been a few seconds that all this had sprinted across Hermione's consciousness. "Very well, Miss Granger," Hopkirk said. "If that is your choice, I can do nothing to stop you. I hope that this is the right path for you. I have my doubts, but I'm sure there's nothing I can do to sway you at this point."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, though there was no feeling in the sentiment, "I've already owled Professor McGonagall and I'm sure the arrangements have already been made."

Hopkirk did not say a word, simply giving her a curt nod and returning to her paperwork. Hermione took this as a dismissal and left the office, heading toward her own. She put all her worries to rest by simply reminding herself that after this week, she would never have to deal with Mafalda Hopkirk ever again.

Relaxing at her desk, she wrote a quick note to Mr. Weasley giving him the news. She spent a good five minutes elaborately folding it into a paper crane and watched as it flew gracefully from her desk and into the corridor. She sighed wistfully.

A few minutes later, a paper plane dove through her door and landed on her desk just then, unfolding itself for her to read:

_Hermione-_

_Wonderful! So proud of you! Just got "very important" memo -- something about muggles. Meeting in 10, I'm sure Improper Use is involved. Good thing you're here through the end of the week to sort these kinds of things out for us! See you soon._

_-Arthur Weasley_

As she read the words, another plane flew into her office, but instead of landing on her desk as Mr. Weasley's had done, it insistently poked her in the forehead until she swiped it from the air like a snitch. All memos that were "very important" were enchanted to pummel their receivers this way. She uncrumpled the parchment:

_All officials in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement-_

_About 32 minutes ago, there was a breach in magical security. A number of highly influential muggles were witness to a definite source of magic. All muggles involved have been successfully obliviated by a group of hit wizards and aurors. However, the source is still unknown and could be capable of committing similar crimes because this was clearly not an accident. Meeting in conference room 119 in 7:29 minutes._

Hermione watched the seconds tick by on the memo, 28, 27, 26… This was not good. At least the muggles were apprehended and taken care of, but a lack of knowledge of the source was a serious problem. Gathering a fresh roll of parchment and a quill, she headed toward room 119 for the meeting. There were already a few witches and wizards gathered there. Conference room 119 was one of three conference rooms in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It happened to be the largest, which indicated to Hermione that it was likely that the entire Department was involved. She joined the clutch of officials, all of whom looked anxious and confused.

"How could they not know the source?" asked one man. Hermione thought she recognized him as a low-level Auror. "Doesn't Improper Use deal with this kind of thing every day?"

"We charge people with improper magic use based on location," explained a wizard who held an office three doors down from Hermione's own. "This occurred in a muggle area so we don't know who it could have been. When our people arrived on site, whoever was involved had probably fled already. What I'd like to know is why the aurors were unable to extract any answers from the muggles. Don't _they_ do _that_ kind of thing every day?"

Hermione stepped in before any more fingers were pointed; she sensed a duel coming on. "Whoever it was probably made sure the muggles didn't know who he or she or _they_ were," she reasoned, the cogs in her mind whirring at lightning speed, "which suggests that they had a rather unusual agenda. Whatever they were trying to do, it clearly didn't succeed. From what I could tell of the note, there was no serious damage done so hopefully this is an isolated case."

More people arrived at the conference room and started to file in. Following the crowd, she took a seat at the back and prepared her parchment and poised her quill for note-taking. Her curiosity was successfully peaked by this dilemma.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to find Harry smiling down at her nervously. He took the seat beside her and ran his fingers through his unruly hair a few times. When Harry was nervous, it was never a good sign. "It's not good, Hermione," he whispered. "They didn't get a single lead."

She worried at her lip. Hopefully she'd glean something from this meeting. For some reason, she felt an insurmountable amount of pressure to solve this mystery and go out with a bang.

Just then, one of the top Aurors got up to address the group, "Good morning, everyone. Unfortunately, I can't give you any further information on this case quite yet. The Aurors that were on location should be back within the next couple of minutes. Dawlish, Proudfoot, Andrews, Savage, Pupp, Scarpin, Weasley, Griffiths, and Pritchard were sent to investigate and take care of the muggles. They'll brief us when they return."

The wizard sat down and a low murmur swept across the room.

"Why did they send Timothy and not you, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"They basically sent all of the best pairs out, which is why Ron went, but when they came to our cubicle, we were a bit swamped with some other cases we've been working on, so I stayed behind. Tim's a pro when it comes to obliviating people. Comes in handy," Harry grinned, an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Miss Granger," said a familiar voice above her. Hopkirk. Hermione cringed. "This meeting is going to cover some very important, _confidential _information. I don't believe that it is appropriate for you to be here, considering you're going to be leaving us so shortly."

"But I haven't left yet, ma'am," Hermione retorted, staring the woman in the eye, challenging her. There was no way she wasn't getting involved with this case.

"Still," Hopkirk was fishing for excuses, "As your superior, I am asking you to leave. Do not try me, Miss Granger, or I will have someone remove you by force."

"If I can't work, then what am I going to be doing for the rest of the week?" Hermione asked fretfully.

"I don't know. Pack up and leave today, if you must," Hopkirk suggested. There was a new malice in her voice. Hermione supposed it was something she had been suppressing ever since Hermione joined the office. "This information is just too sensitive for someone who isn't going to stick it out. I can't in good-conscience allow you to remain here."

Hermione stood up slowly, feeling numb. This was it then. She turned to leave.

"Oh, by the way, Mr. Potter," she heard Hopkirk say, "If you breathe a word of this meeting to her, I will know and I will see to it that you are removed from your position." With that, the woman walked away, leaving a shaken Hermione and an angry Harry in her wake.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry," Harry said. "I don't care what she says. I'll tell you everything today after work."

"Don't," she said, putting her hand up to stop him, "Don't risk your career for me. You guys can figure this out without me. I'll hear all about it when it's over and done with. I'm going to pack my things now."

She left room 119 and headed back toward her office, angry and frustrated that she was not being given a final chance to prove herself at the Ministry. As she headed down the hall, a group of men came rushing towards her, obviously headed to the room she came from. She spotted Ron among them and cursed her luck -- if only Hopkirk hadn't seen her for an extra two minutes, she would have heard _something_ of importance. She shouldn't have sat right at the back. As the group passed, a few eyebrows were raised, probably wondering why she was leaving the meeting. Ron, however, purposefully ignored her. Then they were gone.

The Improper Use of Magic Wing was deserted; she was the only person who had not been allowed to attend. She entered her office and looked around one last time before grabbing a box and tearing down everything she owned from the walls and packing it away. She went through her desk and removed all of her belongings. By the time she was done, she was slightly out of breath. She felt a little bit better, and as she walked to the Atrium, she was visibly calmer. She flooed back to her flat with her box (she had shrunk all of the objects inside so they could fit comfortably) and collapsed on the couch, tears pricking her eyes. She needed to get out and do something to get her mind off this just for a couple hours until the sting wore off. Harry was at the meeting, of course, as was Ron, who still wasn't speaking to her, anyway. Ginny would probably be too interested in the case when Hermione told her the story, and she just didn't want to think about it right now. Neville would be with Professor Sprout working in the greenhouses. All of their other friends -- Dean, Luna, Seamus, the rest of the Weasleys, even Parvati and Lavender -- all had jobs and would be out working right now. Except Luna, but she was always out and about doing whatever strange things popped into her mind. She didn't know how grounded, practical Dean put up with it so well.

She sighed. Without a distraction, all of her problems seemed magnified; the smallest of issues became giant. She needed to resolve her fight with Ron. What if she couldn't adjust to her new job? Would working at Hogwarts be strange? Painful, even? Did she make a mistake leaving the Minsitry? She really wanted to know the details of this case... Wait. Giant. Hagrid! She owed him a visit and he was the perfect person to make her feel better. He didn't ask too many questions and his easy going nature relaxed her. She checked her watch. If she left now, she'd be able to apparate to Hogsmeade and walk to his hut to be there by 1:00. Just in time for lunch, which she would politely decline. It was about the companionship and company, anyway. Grabbing something to eat for the walk, she disapparated.

Hogsmeade had been rather empty, probably because it was a weekday, though there had been a few people mingling about, presumably on their lunch hour. Hermione now stood before the door of Hagrid's hut, readying herself for the onslaught of slobber that would be Fang. She knocked purposefully and heard some low muttering from within. "Who's there?" he called skeptically through the door.

"It's Hermione!" she called.

The door banged open and just as she expected, Fang bounded over and licked her furiously until Hagrid managed to pull him off. He pulled her inside and sat her down at the table. He immediately went into the kitchen to start fixing some sort of lunch concotion. Hermione felt supremely guilty.

"Hagrid, that's quite all right," she hesitantly explained, "I've already eaten."

"Nonsense!" he said gruffly. "Wasn' expecting visitors at this time o' year!"

"Well, I have some big news!" Hermione revealed excitedly, knowing that Hagrid was going to be floored.

"Well, I've heard abou' Harry and Ginny, if tha's what you've come ter share," Hagrid turned around to smile at her. "I knew it was only a matter o' time before he proposed!"

"Nope, something else," Hermione said, smiling widely. Her expectation of Hagrid's reaction was completely wiping away the memory of her anger that had been so potent only an hour ago. "Maybe not quite as big, but definitely hitting closer to home for you!"

"Wha' could be closer to home than a new baby in the Potter clan?" Hagrid mused. Hermione noticed that his cheeks were red and he looked as jolly as Saint Nick himself. "Tha' baby is goin' ter be the most cared fer baby in the entire wizarding world!"

"It sure is," Hermione said. "And I'm so relieved that they're planning the wedding for December!"

"Why's that?" Hagrid asked, puzzled.

"Well, it's not just students that get off for December holidays, right?" she asked innocently. "Professors do too, don't we?"

"Are yeh saying what I think yeh're sayin'?" Hagrid asked, eyes growing wide.

Hermione just nodded and suddenly, she was picked up and wrapped in a bone-crushing hug. After about a minute, she felt something wet on her shoulder.

"Hagrid… are you crying?"

He released her, setting her down on the floor. Fang trotted over and licked her toes in his own form of congratulations. Hagrid's little black eyes were shining with fresh tears, many of which had gotten caught in his tangled beard, sparkling like diamonds. He tried to wipe his face, but it didn't help all that much. Hermione walked him over to the table to sit.

"It's j-jus', I always knew one day yeh'd be back here," Hagrid said. "Hogw-warts, it isn' the same without yeh'. Yeh'll be a great teacher, Hermione. Are yeh takin' over fer McGonagall?"

"Transfigurations, yes," she nodded, smiling brightly. Hagrid's praise meant the world to her.

"Well, congratulations," he patted her heavily on the shoulder. She fought to remain standing on the strong impact that she knew he hadn't meant. It was the irony of Hagrid's existence; he appeared so large and dangerous, but in reality, he was gentle and might as well have been small as a mouse. Other than his love of ferocious beasts, his body did no justice to his personality. Hermione was ever-grateful that Fang suffered the same fate, because she knew she wouldn't visit Hagrid half as much if he had ended up keeping Norbert as a pet instead.

"So yeh'll be here nex' week?" Hagrid asked. "Tha's good. I think it's good, this idea of hers. It'll get all the faculty working as a team. I think she'll be a very efficien' headmistress, though no one could top Dumbledore, o' course."

Hermione silently agreed.

"I almos' forgot! I was preparin' something!" Hagrid hurried back into the kitchen. Hermione waited patiently, a bit nervous about what he would bring back with him.

He returned with his famous rock cakes and a kettle of tea. Hermione pretended to pick at a cake but drank the tea liberally as not to offend him. "So tell me about teaching here," she prompted. "I mean, I think I have an idea, but I'd like to hear a faculty member's opinions, and I know I can trust your judgment."

Hagrid beamed. "I guess it's ev'rything yeh'd expect, really," he said, shrugging. "Very rewarding but sometimes exhausting at the same time."

She still wasn't sure what to expect come September, and she was even feeling a bit apprehensive about the faculty week McGonagall was planning. "Do you think," she paused, trying to phrase this properly, "that I'll have trouble commanding the attention of the students due to my age?"

"Not at all," Hagrid responded without hesitation. Then added, "If Malfoy can do it, you certainly can."

Ah, yes. Malfoy, her soon-to-be colleague. She wondered how that would play out. She just pushed the thought out of her mind. It wasn't like they'd need to have anything to do with each other, really. Two different subjects, two different floors in the building. She'd just make sure she didn't end up sitting anywhere near him at the Head Table.

"Tha's goin' ter be rough, maybe," Hagrid observed. "You shoulda seen him last year. All tha' publicity he was getting? Youngest professor in however-many-years. All wen' ter his head." He paused thoughtfully for a moment. "Though I have heard, and don' get mad at me fer this, but I hear he's a decent teacher."

"I can imagine," Hermione said, blandly, "he'd be just like Snape, favoring the Slytherins and hurling insults at everyone else in that dungeon of his."

"There's some o' that," Hagrid admitted, "But from what some o' the other professors have told me (since I don't really make it a point ter talk ter Malfoy), the students do well in his class and they seem to like his sense o' humor, if tha's what they're callin' it these days. And he certainly has the female students followin' his ev'ry move."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Of course the girls at Hogwarts would love having Malfoy as a professor. But she had heard some accusations that left a pink tinge to her face.

"Do you think any of those rumors are true?" Hermione asked.

"I dunno," Hagrid said. "I don' think so, though. It's been spreadin' all over, and if it were true, some parents would have something to say to the Board o' Governors, and he wouldn' be back this year."

Hermione pondered this for a moment. Despite all the hate she possessed for Malfoy, she thought that he at least had the dignity and respect for his family name not to pull something like that. She hoped for his sake that it wasn't true, otherwise she would sincerely pity him.

The rest of the afternoon passed by pleasantly. Hermione always enjoyed spending time with Hagrid. She even managed to slip two rock cakes under the table to Fang while Hagrid wasn't looking. It had been a good visit. She had almost entirely forgotten the events of that morning.

When it was time to leave, she briefly considered flooing from Neville's just to stop in and say hi, but she remembered that Ron would most likely be there, too. That was not something she wanted to deal with right now. She did not want her good mood ruined. Instead, she apparated directly back to her flat and hurriedly fixed dinner. She hadn't realized how hungry she was after a long, foodless afternoon.


	4. Pregnancy Hormones

Chapter 4

Pregnancy Hormones

It was a strange concept that had made its way into the girl's head. Hermione didn't quite understand the foundation. Witches' robes, though not as billowing as wizards', were quite loose and spacious, so it wasn't as if Ginny's clothes no longer fit her now that she was three months pregnant. In fact, she was hardly showing thus far. But this didn't stop Ginny from coercing her closest female friend into a maternity shopping trip. Hermione suspected that Ginny's would-be insecurities were caused by Harry's treatment of her; he practically carried her all around the house, afraid that if she walked up too many stairs or sat down too quickly or tripped over something or did anything _normal_, the baby would be hurt. But Ginny didn't seem to have any problems with it. Hermione wasn't sure if Ginny was unaware that pregnant women weren't treated like this until much later in the pregnancy, or if she simply liked the attention. She wasn't about to ask. Ginny was enjoying herself and Harry insisted, so there didn't seem to be a problem.

Diagon Alley had plenty of robes shops, but Ginny had decided that shopping there wouldn't do. "Diagon Alley is too much of a marketplace," she had reasoned, "I need a better selection." It seemed that another side effect of this pregnancy was Ginny's new obsession with her appearance. She had never before insisted on wearing expensive clothes, given her upbringing, but suddenly she was dragging Hermione across London to the fashionable wizarding shopping district of Burnham Lane to find a whole new wardrobe. Ginny was not being greedy or shallow, she just wanted to make sure that as a very young mother, she didn't lose her youth. Hermione understood, but shopping had always been a tiresome activity for her and she wasn't sure how long she would be able to stand it. Burnham Lane was clothes shop after clothes shop after accessories and make up shop after clothes shop. The selection here was _too_ wide. But Ginny was in her glory and Hermione knew better than to dampen her mood.

So now they were here, ducking into any and every maternity shop they could find. Ginny was being rather picky and Hermione was quickly losing her patience, but hid it behind an excited smile. They had been talking casually for most of the afternoon, and the conversation eventually turned to Ron.

"He might as well not have moved out, you know," Ginny said, picking through maternity robe after maternity robe, "He's always at our house complaining about Neville. I don't understand what his problem is. It's always stupid, insignificant stuff that he rants about."

"I don't know, either," Hermione said. "I think he's just being stubborn, as usual. He didn't want to move there in the first place, and now that he's there and realizes it's not so bad, he's got to find something to complain about just to prove how unbearable it is."

Ginny agreed, finding a nice, semi-expensive robe to try on, adding it to her pile of four or five. Hermione held most of them while Ginny searched, but now she was ready for the changing stalls. Ginny took about twenty minutes before emerging and only choosing to purchase one of the robes. Hermione would never understand girls' shopping habits.

She picked up their conversation where it had left off as they left the shop and continued on their journey, "I wish he'd be kinder to Neville. He opened his home to him and has done nothing but good things for him."

"Well, I don't think his anger is necessarily entirely directed at Neville," Ginny was thoughtful. "I think a lot of it is anger that's been building up towards you. Honestly, I think he still fancies you and he's angry that you seemed so desperate for him not to stay at your flat."

Hermione was not happy with this logic. She glared at Ginny in annoyance, "If Ron was really that upset about not being able to stay at my flat, then he's daft. We would both be miserable. My flat is tiny, and we don't live well together at all."

"Well, that seems to be number two on his list of things to complain about when he comes over," Ginny explained. "Right after how _annoying_ Neville supposedly is comes how you go to visit him every other day and kiss him on the cheek and he turns red and trips over his own feet. That's an interesting development, huh? Not that I'm surprised, really. Neville liked you even back at Hogwarts."

This conversation was turning Hermione's face an interesting shade of pink. She was annoyed with Ginny for pressing the issue and was hoping she would drop it soon. "I don't think anything would ever work out with either of them," Hermione stated firmly. "I'm not interested in that kind of thing right now. I'm focusing on getting my career plans sorted out."

"Well, just so you know, not that I want to get involved, but Ron seems to think that he'd be a better boyfriend the second time around and he's ready to give it a shot," at the look on Hermione's face, she quickly added, "He didn't put me up to this! I swear! And to prove it, I'll have you know that I think Neville has become very attractive over the years and he's a great guy, so I'll support you no matter who you choose."

"I'm not choosing anybody!" Hermione burst out. Ginny was right, though. About Neville, at least; she wasn't so sure about Ron. Neville had lost much of his chubbiness and acquired a set of broad shoulders. He was still wide, but it was mostly muscle now. All his work in the garden and helping Professor Sprout with all of the physical labor required in the greenhouses when the plants were too sensitive to magic had really benefited his physique. Neville hadn't even seemed to realize it himself, but he had also grown more confident, at least around his friends. She figured when faced with the likes of Draco Malfoy, he'd still stutter a bit. She hoped they didn't run into each other too often at Hogwarts.

The conversation returned to more inconsequential things and the rest of the day passed by a bit more slowly due to Hermione's new feeling of slight discomfort. Did Ron and Neville really still have feelings for her? She realized how awkward that must be for them, living together. Neville had really made a sacrifice, letting Ron move in. Ron should be kissing his feet!

Before they left, Ginny turned to Hermione and said, "I'm sorry for bringing all that up earlier, but I thought you should know. I don't want to be involved and I'm not saying that you and Ron should get back together because I don't know the half of it. But I do wish you two would make up, and I thought this insight would help," she grinned tentatively, "And then he hopefully won't come around to annoy me and Harry with his complaining so much."

"It's okay, Ginny, I understand," Hermione half smiled.

**xxxxx**

When she returned to her flat, she found an owl patiently waiting on the kitchen windowsill. She took the letter attached to its leg and fed it some treats before sending it on its way. The letter was from Professor McGonagall. It contained all the details for the faculty orientation week and Hermione was surprised by how long it was. She felt her nerves return in a flash, twisting unpleasantly in her stomach.

Some of the things included in the letter were faculty dress code, new classes, responsibilities and duties, moving into offices and quarters, preparing classrooms, planning goals and lesson plans for each year level, meeting schedules for the faculty and the Head Boy and Girl and Prefects, nightwatch schedules, new event planning, and more.

Hermione couldn't wrap her head around so many responsibilities and felt panic rising like bile in her throat. She needed to talk it out with someone. She had already spent too much time with Ginny today and was still annoyed at her for all of that intuitiveness that Hermione had not appreciated. Harry didn't handle stress very well so he probably wouldn't be much help. Ron was still out of the question. And next on her list was Neville, who was always willing to help no matter what. She contemplated this for a moment. If Ginny was right, she could potentially be leading him on or taking advantage of him. But they were still friends, so what was the harm? She needed him right now. It didn't have anything to do with him having any feelings for her. It probably wasn't even true!

She was so overwhelmed, she felt tears coming to her eyes but she refused to cry over a little stress. Hermione Granger always conquered her fears and worries! But that didn't mean she was above asking for help. She grabbed a handful of floo powder and stuck her head through to Neville's cottage, praying that Ron wouldn't be there to make things uncomfortable. She was in luck. She called Neville's name, suddenly realizing he may not even be home. It was around dinner time… maybe he'd gone out to eat?

But he appeared with a surprised look on his face and rushed over to the fireplace, kneeling beside it so he was on the same level as her head. "Is everything okay?" he asked, worry palpable in his voice.

"No, no, everything's fine, Neville," Hermione said, sighing. She hadn't meant to worry him. "I'm sorry to just drop in like this."

"It's no problem at all," Neville said, smiling. "But really, what's wrong?"

Hermione felt guilt surging in her stomach. So far, it seemed like Ginny was entirely right. Of course, Neville was a nice guy to begin with, but the way he was looking into her eyes… Hermione could no longer deny it. She mentally kicked herself for desperately coming here. She could have dealt with it on her own.

"I'm just… nervous about the job," she admitted, trying to down-play her concerns. She didn't want to use him. "McGonagall sent me a whole list of things I need to be ready for and it really overwhelmed me. It's okay now. I just wanted someone to talk to."

"I'm always here," he gave her a warm smile. "Why don't you tell me what was on this list?"

She explained to him all of the responsibilities and duties that had been in the letter. Neville nodded between each one, really focusing on what she was saying. It was like there was nothing else in the world other than her floating head in the fireplace. She groaned inwardly, _Stupid, stupid, stupid Hermione!_

"Is there anything I can help you with?" he asked after she had rattled off the list. She shook her head, not wanting to pull him in deeper. Her new goal was to get out of this fireplace as soon as possible. Why did she always seem to walk her way into trouble? "How about I help you move all your stuff in when you get here?" he suggested.

"Oh, I can handle it," she said. "I can just levitate it all."

"And so can I!" Neville reasoned, "You'll be done in half the time! Don't try to talk me out of it; I'm coming no matter what."

She sighed in defeat, "Thanks, Neville."

"So anyway," he said, "Ron mentioned that something big happened yesterday at the Ministry. Obviously he couldn't give me details, but it sounded pretty serious. Is everything okay?"

Hermione's mood instantly darkened. She thought it probably showed on her face because it appeared that Neville bit the inside of his cheek after asking. "I don't know," she said flatly. "I was kicked out of the meeting and told to leave for good."

"I'm sorry, Hermione, I didn't realize…"

"It's fine. I have to go."

With that, she pulled out of the fireplace just as Neville said almost desperately, "Okay, well, I'll see you Monday!"

Getting up from the hearth and walking across the room to sink into the couch, she realized that Ginny must have been right. Hermione hated herself for being so oblivious. All this time she must have been leading Neville on, making him think that she was interested. She didn't even know if she could be! She was too distracted and frustrated lately. Focusing on that stuff would be irresponsible. It was really great of him to help her move in, but she resolved to stick to platonic hugs and avoid cheek kisses. And from then on, until she had time to really think about things, she would try to isolate herself from both him and Ron.

That weekend, she began packing. She had realized only the day before that if she was going to live at Hogwarts, her flat would remain empty while she was away but she'd still be paying her rent. Regretfully, she had come to the conclusion that it was time to say goodbye. She told the manager of her building that she'd be moving out. So she wasn't just packing for a few months, she was packing all of her stuff for good. She had spoken to Harry upon this revelation and he had offered to keep all the stuff she didn't need in storage at Grimmauld Place during the year. Then, during breaks, he said they'd let her have a room. It was really very kind of them. Hopefully she'd find her own flat for the summer, but it was good to know she'd have a place to come back to during the holidays. While Ron had been unable to tolerate living with Harry and Ginny, Hermione did not mind at all. Perhaps because neither one was her sibling.

As a result, Hermione now had two groups of boxes. One group was filled with things she'd be bringing with her to Hogwarts, the other filled with things she'd leave at Harry and Ginny's. She had rented all of her furniture and it was all getting picked up Sunday afternoon. The boxes destined for storage were shrunk and flooed to 12 Grimmauld Place. Hermione landed with a thud in the sitting room. Harry must've heard her arrival, because a minute later, he was helping her up and grabbing her boxes for her.

He brought her upstairs to her old room from back when they'd lived together. "Thought you'd be comfortable here," he grinned.

"This is great, Harry," she smiled, genuinely happy to have such a wonderful friend. "Thanks."

"No problem. And if you have any trouble at all finding a flat for the summer, you can stay here with us as long as you need to."

Hermione shook her head, "You'll need all the space you can get for that baby. You're already treating Ginny like she's on bed rest. I can only imagine how that baby is going to be treated!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry frowned slightly, not sure if that was meant to be a compliment or an insult.

"It means," she put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently, "that you are going to be a great father."

Harry smiled and gathered her into a hug. They stood like that for a few minutes until a cough interrupted their best friend bonding moment. Ginny stood in the doorway with an eyebrow raised, but she was grinning. They broke apart.

"Are you cheating on me?" she asked playfully, grabbing Harry's hand. "I know Hermione's got all the guys on her tail, but I thought you'd be a loyal fiancé, Harry."

"Ginnyyy," Hermione groaned in exasperation.

"What's this about?" Harry asked, raising a suspecting eyebrow.

"Nothing," Hermione insisted.

But Harry would not take no for an answer.

"Ron and Neville both fancy Hermione," Ginny finally told him, "but she refuses to believe it."

"I never said that!"

"I thought everyone knew that already," Harry said, shrugging.

Hermione let out an annoyed sigh and threw her hands into the air, "It doesn't matter! I don't have that kind of interest in either of them! And Ron needs to get over it. We broke up for a reason that he was perfectly agreeable to!"

"Or so you think…" Harry hinted.

"Whatever, I don't want to hear about it," Hermione said, turning towards the door, "I need to get back to my flat and finish packing, anyway." Of course, she had already finished packing, but she just wanted to get out of this conversation.

"Sorry for bringing it up, Hermione," Ginny said, concern written all over her face. "I didn't mean to! I think it's the pregnancy hormones!"

At this simple statement, Harry was suddenly at her side, fawning over her like a sick child.

"It's fine, Ginny," Hermione said on her way out. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Let us know if you need anything!' Ginny called. Harry was too wrapped up in his new task to wave goodbye.

Hermione sat among her boxes and fell asleep on the couch. The next night, she stayed at Harry and Ginny's once all her furniture had been taken away and she had nowhere to sleep. She went to bed early, nerves getting the best of her, to prepare for the next day. As she drifted off, images of babies, parchment cranes, restless students, and dragons swirled just beyond the darkness of her vision.


	5. Helping Hands

**A/N: For those who have been reading this story for the last couple of weeks, you may notice some changes. I've edited and revised the first few chapters and combined most of them, making the longer.**

**This chapter includes what used to be Chapter 7 and about half-way through starts the newest addition to the story.**

**Sorry for any confusion, hope you continue to enjoy.**

**xxxxx**

Chapter 5

Helping Hands

The gates of the castle came into view as they rounded the corner. They headed through the grounds with the sun at their backs. It was now shining high above the Forbidden Forest and reflecting off the lake with a brightness that hurt Hermione's eyes. She had all of her stuff (shrunken) in a single box, which Neville had insisted on carrying. It was very kind of him to help her, but Hermione could have easily handled it herself. His presence was more for emotional support, though that kind of scared Hermione. While she knew she was blessed to have such wonderful friends, she also preferred being independent when it came to career-oriented endeavors. And after her discussion with Ginny the other day, allowing Neville to be her support beam could potentially be detrimental to their relationship in the long run. Hermione didn't want to lead him on.

They reached the castle steps and pushed through the great oak doors into the Entrance Hall. There were only three people in the hall, and they all turned to greet the new arrivals as they entered. Professor McGonagall stood tallest, with Professors Sprout and Babbling before her.

Hermione greeted each of her former teachers happily. Neville, never having taken Ancient Ruins, smiled tentatively at Professor Babbling, then nodded sheepishly at Professor McGonagall, still unnerved by her stern, harsh presence. Hermione noticed that he immediately gravitated to Professor Sprout, the one professor he felt comfortable with.

Professor McGonagall showed Hermione up to her new office and quarters, recently vacated by McGonagall herself. Neville followed close behind, slightly awkward, still carrying the box even though Hermione had offered to take it from him countless times. The room was guarded by a tall tapestry depicting a regal man with dark hair and olive skin that peered down at them quizzically. "Haven't seen you in awhile," he murmured to McGonagall who nodded cordially. The tapestry swept upwards revealing a door. The Headmistress explained that there was no need for a password; the guardian, Falco Aesalon, knew Hermione was the occupant of the room and would allow her entry, as well as anyone she personally specified to him that should be permitted to enter. The door opened directly into Hermione's new office, which had a door on the far side leading into the bedroom. After showing her around the room and office, McGonagall left them to unpack, but mentioned to Hermione that she'd like to see her in the Headmistress' Office that night after dinner. Hermione consented and closed the door softly behind her as the witch exited, sweeping the tapestry gently aside.

"So this is it, huh?" Neville said, finally opening up once they were alone. Hermione knew that Neville had matured a lot since school. He grew physically and had also gained a lot more confidence, especially around their friends. But it seemed that he was still intimidated by his old superiors, though Hermione wondered why this hadn't improved considering how much time he spent on Hogwarts grounds.

"I think my flat could fit comfortably into the combined space of the classroom, office, and bedroom," Hermione said. "I don't even know what to do with all of this space."

The room was much cozier than Hermione's old dormitory and it allowed much more room for a personal flair. Conveniently, as Professor McGonagall had been a Gryffindor, the bedroom was already draped in red and gold décor, which suited Hermione's tastes fine. There was a large canopy bed in the center of the far wall and a bureau to the left of it. The adjoining bathroom wasn't anything incredibly elaborate, but it had all the necessities and plenty of space. A nice, plush sofa by the fireplace in the corner with a coffee table and bookshelf completed the room and made Hermione feel truly at home. She noticed the soft carpeting beneath her feet and the way it contrasted with the smooth, warm-colored wood panel walls.

They began unpacking her things and arranging them around the bedroom and office. The office naturally had a less comfortable feel than the bedroom, but it was practical and Hermione loved it. It was spacious, unlike her office at the Ministry, with plenty of storage units and opportunities for neat organization. By the time they had finished setting up, there was only an hour until dinner. Professor McGonagall had been kind enough to invite Neville to stay but he politely declined. Hermione knew it was because he'd feel out of place. She was sorry he felt that way, and wished he would stay to make her feel a little bit more comfortable, but knew it would be asking too much. And she didn't want to give him any incorrect impressions.

In the interim until dinner and Neville's departure, they decided to take a look at the Transfiguration classroom. Before they left her quarters, Neville waited in the office while Hermione changed into her robes in the bedroom. She emerged with her pointed hat in hand. It was proper for the faculty to wear their hats around the building, though it was not a strict rule. Teachers wore them in their own classrooms by their own discretion, and most donned them at mealtimes. They left the room (giving a quick nod of thanks to Aesalon who gave them a curt bow in return) and headed to the classroom, which was just around the corner, very convenient for Hermione. In fact, she had one of the most strategically located offices in the castle. While most faculty quarters were either adjoining or very nearby to the classrooms they taught in, that wasn't always true. For example, Professor Sprout conducted her classes outside in the greenhouses, but her quarters were located on the third floor. Similarly, Professor Sinistra taught at the top of the Astronomy Tower, but her quarters were on the fourth floor. It just happened to work out that way. But not only were Hermione's quarters close to her classroom, they were also on the first floor, a short walk from the main staircase leading down into the Entrance Hall.

Her classroom was wider than most, but also shallower. A low stage, only a foot or so off the ground, was situated at the front of the room that allowed for demonstrations of all types. A table could easily be set up there, and there was a desk identical to the one in her office in the far left corner. The writing board, which could be made to float anywhere on the stage, was currently pushed to the right. There were tables with stools set up in a semi-circular fashion facing the stage and counters lining the walls. Underneath the counters on the left side of the room (which was also lined with windows) were bookshelves filled with various textbooks for different levels of study. The counters on the other side had built-in cabinets with all sorts of materials stored within. This was all familiar to Hermione, though she had yet to see it from a teacher's perspective. She walked up to the stage and turned around, surveying the room from this new angle. It was strange, but a surge of excitement sent a thrill down her spine. Neville smiled at her encouragingly. She suddenly couldn't wait to start the school year, though that was no different than her days as a student.

They headed down to the Entrance Hall then, even though it was a bit early. Standing beside the doors to the Great Hall, Hermione hugged Neville goodbye. Stepping away, he smiled at her, and she felt a tad awkward and felt a certain warmth gripping at the roots of her hair and seeping down her face. When he turned and left, she couldn't help but feel slightly relieved. She noticed the House hourglasses beside the front doors, each one empty on the bottom half but full on top. She stared hard at the Gryffindor rubies and hoped they would pull through this year. She, of course, would not play favorites with any students, but she would certainly cheer on her old House in points and Quidditch.

She spun on her heel and pushed open the doors to the Great Hall. Once again, Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout were already there, this time talking quietly in front of the head table with Professor Flitwick. She also noticed a man she didn't recognize conversing with Professor Vector by the Gryffindor table on the right. She caught Professor Vector's eye and the witch greeted her happily, waving her over. As Hermione passed the High Table, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout seemed to cease their conversation. She didn't think much of it, and walked over to the two other professors, shaking both of their hands. Professor Vector was the teacher of Hermione's favorite subject, Arithmancy.

"This is the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Quentin Trimble," Vector said.

They exchanged greetings. Hermione noticed that the man seemed a bit out of sorts. She was vaguely reminded of Professor Quirrell, the evil Defense Against the Dark Arts professor from her first year, but quickly brushed the notion aside.

"You may recognize his name," Vector continued, "I believe you've used his book in your studies, _The __Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection."_

"Yes, I do," Hermione said, remembering the text from her school days. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Faculty members filed into the Great Hall little by little and mingled light-heartedly. Hermione greeted her old professors and also met the new Muggle Studies teacher, Wilhelm Wigworthy, another author (_Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles_). This was not his first year teaching, as he had taken the post after what would have been Hermione's seventh year.

Just as McGonagall was about to get everyone's attention, Hermione noticed Draco Malfoy slip into the hall and make his way up to where they were all assembled. He noticed her watching him and narrowed his eyes before breaking the contact and recognizing the Headmistress at the front of the group.

"Welcome back!" McGonagall announced, and there was a smattering of applause. There were 18 witches and wizards present, including Filch, Madam Pomfrey, and Madam Pince, plus Professor Binns. There were a few other ghosts milling about but they didn't seem interested in what was going on. Hermione had always been impressed with how smoothly Hogwarts managed to run on so few staff members, but she always recognized that much of the credit should go to the house-elves.

"A couple of announcements," she continued after the noise had subsided. "First, I would like to welcome our two newest professors, Quentin Trimble for Defense Against the Dark Arts and Hermione Granger for Transfiguration!" More applause.

"You will all be having personal meetings with me tomorrow afternoon, but I will be seeing a couple of you tonight," McGonagall stated, locking eyes with Hermione and someone else, though she couldn't be sure who. "That's pretty much the agenda for tomorrow. When you're not meeting with me, you are free to do as you please. You can leave the grounds or stay here and start your preparations, which is what I would suggest.

"I don't want to bore you with more announcements tonight, so I will take care of the rest at dinner tomorrow. For now, enjoy the meal."

They all walked around the High Table and took their seats. Hermione found herself seated between Hagrid on her right and Professor Vector on her left. The house-elves were already hard at work and the food was great as usual. She ate mostly in silence, feeling a bit awkward. She tried to talk to Hagrid, but he seemed to be in a sour mood. Professor Vector was friendly enough, but she seemed to be reserving most of her conversation for Professor Sinistra, who was sitting on her other side. By the time the meal was over, Hermione was sure she was sufficiently flushed and hoped to find a couple of minutes to rinse her face before meeting with the Headmistress.

"Hermione, if you'd meet me in my office in twenty minutes or so," McGonagall said to her. She exchanged nods and brief words with a few others before leaving the Great Hall. As the rest of the faculty began to leave, Hermione followed suit, rushing to her quarters to splash some water on her face. She wasn't sure why she felt so out of place. Was it her age? She wasn't sure. Perhaps it's simply because they used to be my superiors, she considered, and it's strange that we are equals now.

**xxxxx**

"Thank you both for coming," McGonagall said.

Hermione had reached the Headmistress' Office only to find that they were "waiting on Mister Malfoy, he should only be a couple more minutes." He arrived with his usual sneer, shooting Hermione a quick glare before sitting in the seat beside her, which was unfortunately the only other chair in the room.

"I hope you don't mind that I'm combining your meetings into one," the Headmistress cautioned, knowing that the two of them did not exactly get along. "I just have a similar request of both of you and thought it would be convenient to have you both here together.

"First, Hermione, I have a specific favor to ask of you," she paused thoughtfully for a moment. "I have considered for awhile what would make Hogwarts a better place. Thought the war is over, and Voldemort is no longer a threat, there are still many factors that can make the transition into the Wizarding World a big challenge for muggleborns. I know you would agree." Hermione nodded. "I felt it might be a good idea if we set up a counseling program for muggleborn students so they have someone who they can go to if they have questions without feeling embarrassed."

Hermione nodded. She would have loved having a resource like that when she first came to school. From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Malfoy roll his eyes. She just ignored him.

"I would ask Professor Wigworthy, but he's half-blood, and I feel that having a muggleborn head the program would be more appropriate. You are also close in age to the students, so they will probably feel more comfortable coming to you," Professor McGonagall explained. "Of course, this will require more work on your part, but with more work comes more rewards. The Board of Governors has agreed to raise the salary of the faculty member who takes on this responsibility, much like they do for the Heads of House."

Hermione considered this. It was a great idea and she'd love to help out, plus she'd be getting a bonus. "I'd love to, Professor," Hermione said immediately.

"Well, I wasn't expecting such a speedy response," the Headmistress smiled, "But I'm glad you're so eager. Thank you. Now onto a matter that concerns both of you. This is going to be a request that has never before been bestowed on faculty members as new to Hogwarts, but I've discussed it with the Board of Governors as well as Pomona and Filius and we feel that the two of you are capable. We would like to extend to you the offer to become the new Heads of Gryffindor and Slytherin."

Hermione was dumbfounded, and looking at Malfoy, she was sure she looked as surprised as he did. He mouth had fallen open. Head status was usually only granted to the oldest, most respected professors.

"As for Gryffindor, Madam Hooch and Hagrid were both considered, but we felt neither of them would be quite suited to the job. I know asking you to do this as well as the muggleborn program may be asking too much of you, Hermione, and if you decline this offer, we will have one of them take the job after all. But again, this would be yet another cushion for your salary."

Not knowing how to respond, Hermione just gaped at the Headmistress.

"There are, of course, other Slytherins on staff, but Aurora declined, and Sybill… well, I think you both know how I feel about her," McGonagall gave them a half smile. "You've proven yourself as a great wizard, Draco, and also as a great Potions Master. I know the students look up to you and I think you would be a great inspiration as Head of Slytherin."

She surveyed them both. Draco had recovered his composure and nodded politely, but Hermione still seemed mystified.

"I don't need an answer from either of you right now, but I certainly will need one by dinner tomorrow in order to make other arrangements," McGonagall said. She seemed slightly uneasy about the possibility that they would say no.

"I would be delighted, Minerva," Malfoy said with a polite smile. As he turned to cast it on Hermione, she detected the subtlest shadow of that old smirk and it made her blood boil. She felt like he was trying to one-up her, and she simply could not allow that. "As would I," Hermione blurted, though hesitating at the end. She almost tagged "Minerva" to the end as he had, but she was not yet comfortable using McGonagall's first name.

"Well, that's a relief," the Headmistress admitted. "I'm impressed with both of you. Thank you for your help. We will have a meeting tomorrow night after dinner with Pomona and Filius to discuss all of your responsibilities and what's in store for this year."

With that dismissal, both rose from their chairs and left the office, Malfoy politely allowing Hermione to walk through the door first. She rolled her eyes. What an act. Once out in the corridor, they walked in separate directions, speaking not a word to one another.

Once back in her bedroom, Hermione rested her head on her pillow, staring up at the canopy above her bed. Once she had gotten over the fact that _she_ was now Head of Gryffindor, she pondered the fact that Malfoy was now Head of Slytherin. First of all, it meant that they would probably be working closely together this year and coming years, and she was definitely not looking forward to that. She also couldn't fathom what made McGonagall trust him. She supposed she was desperate. It had only been about three years ago that Malfoy had attempted to kill Dumbledore and fought on the side of the Death Eaters. She knew he'd been brainwashed and had redeemed himself (under Veritaserum) in the eyes of the Ministry, but Hermione had a hard time accepting it all. He was still a generally mean person; he had tormented her throughout their years in school together. It was hard for her to imagine him as a teacher, let alone counseling young, impressionable witches and wizards. Perhaps he had proven himself as a professor last year in ways only the rest of the faculty knew, but it was still difficult for Hermione to grasp. Then again, Snape hadn't been the nicest person either, but he was relatively successful as Slytherin's Head of House. She supposed Slytherin had a different set of standards.

**xxxxx**

After breakfast the next morning, Hermione went back to her office to write an owl to Neville telling him the good news. He had been so kind helping her out yesterday so she figured he should be the first to know. She had considered going into Hogsmeade for lunch, but decided it would be best to give him some space. Spending too much time with him might send false messages. Casually, she asked Neville to mention her "promotion" to Ron; he deserved to know, even though they weren't getting along at the moment. She was planning on returning to Grimmauld Place for the three-day weekend before September first and would tell Harry and Ginny in person.

As the dutiful person she was, Hermione went straight to work planning lessons and concentrations for her classes. McGonagall had sent home the booklists already and had told the students to pick up the same Transfiguration textbooks she used to assign, which was fine by Hermione. So she flipped through some of them and got an idea of the level of magic each year should be capable of. She tried to remember back to her own school years but, particularly when she was younger, she had a good handle of the magic and always seemed to be a step ahead. She wasn't entirely sure exactly what the average student should be able to master.

She recalled the usual first year lessons: Switching Spells with inanimate objects such as transfiguring a match into a needle. More difficult exercises that she remembered were beetles into buttons and mice into snuffboxes, which had been the final exam for her first year, if she remembered correctly.

Hermione believed that understanding the underlying magic to a spell was key to mastering it in practice. She had always found spells to be within her grasp after studying them in books and fully understanding how they should work. She knew many students skipped the reading, believing they could handle the spells without studying, but they hadn't done as well as she had which entirely proved her point and made up her mind. She would be assigning reading and writing outside the classroom, and devoting class time to practical magic. If they didn't do the required homework, tough. And best of luck to them!

O.W.L. classes would study Vanishing and Conjuring spells, while the N.E.W.T. classes would study human transfiguration. Hermione was capable of the magic but she would certainly need to prepare herself in order to teach and demonstrate it properly. And she would have to read up on animagi. This was a seventh year subject and she had not been in school for her seventh year so she had never truly studied it, though she remembered spending countless hours in the library researching the limitations of animagus transfiguration when she was looking to kidnap Rita Skeeter. However, she had never really needed to know how one became an animagus in the first place, so she would have to catch up on that.

This was how she spent much of her day. Lunch was sparsely attended. Many of the professors had opted to leave Hogwarts for the day when they did not have their meetings with McGonagall and as a result, only seven people were at lunch: Hermione, McGonagall, Hagrid, Filch, Pomfrey, Wigworthy, and Trelawney. After lunch, Hermione continued planning her curriculum. She set up a week-to-week plan much like the study schedules she used to make for Harry and Ron.

That night at dinner, Professor McGonagall got right down to business.

"I trust you all had a good day," she began. "First, I'd like to congratulate our new Heads of Slytherin and Gryffindor House, Draco and Hermione."

There was clapping, but a few professors looked skeptical. Hermione felt herself turning red. Hagrid clapped her on the back a little too heavily and shouted, "Well, wha'd'yeh know?!"

"We also have a couple of new programs running this year," the Headmistress continued. "Rolanda will be conducting a Defensive Flying course for the first and second years. This will promote a less reckless generation of flyers and, perhaps, Quidditch players." A couple of good-natured chuckles. "Also, Hermione will be heading a new program that I, personally, am very excited about. It will be a muggleborn integration program that will hopefully make the transition to Hogwarts more comfortable and give them someone to talk to that knows how it feels to be in that situation." There was applause and murmurings of approval. "Finally, I'd like to congratulate Wilhemina, who will now be taking over as a full-time teacher here." Hermione glanced up at Hagrid, concerned. The smile on his face certainly looked grim. "She will be conducting the lower level Care of Magical Creatures classes, while Hagrid will be teaching the N.E.W.T. level classes."

Hermione hoped Hagrid wasn't too upset by this. He had plastered a cheery smile on his face, and while she knew it wasn't entirely sincere, it didn't seem like he was too heartbroken. At least he was teaching the older students who could handle more intense lessons, though his penchant for dangerous creatures had never stopped him from using them in classes with younger students, anyway. Professor Grubbly-Plank seemed pleased, at least.

After dinner, Hermione followed McGonagall up to the Headmistress' office with Malfoy, Flitwick, and Sprout. They all sat around her desk and she handed them each a thick, busting folder in their house colors labeled "Schedules." They were to give these out after the Welcoming Feast.

"Now, as you know, we have decided to wait until tomorrow to choose the Head Boy, Head Girl, and prefects, so we'll have a general meeting tomorrow with everyone to make recommendations and take our picks. They will be announced at the Welcoming Feast. I think that will be a nice honor for them," McGonagall said. Hermione had not known this and thought it rather odd that the students would not know if they were Heads or Prefects before school began. "I'd also like to discuss your responsibilities for this year."

McGonagall went on to describe what would be expected of them as Heads of House. Hermione realized then that the witch was taking a very hands-on approach to her job and was giving Hogwarts a much denser curriculum. They would be expected to hold House meetings in their common rooms once a month as well as attend any meetings set up by the Head Boy and Girl with the prefects. McGonagall also explained that the four of them would be her top consultants on how student life is progressing throughout the year. Hermione figured that she and Draco, with less seniority, would be lower ranked than Sprout, and Flitwick, as Deputy Headmaster, would be McGonagall's right-hand man.

McGonagall asked Hermione to remain after the meeting. "I'd like you to hold a meeting with all the muggleborns, all ages, after dinner on the first day of classes. I want you to explain to them why this program has been set in motion and answer any questions they have. Then you can proceed as you see fit, but I was thinking you might want to set up a buddy system with the older and younger students. Something to make them feel more welcome here, you know?"

"I think that's a great idea," Hermione replied. "How often would you like me to hold these meetings?"

"As often as you see fit. You'll get an idea of their progress as you go, I'd assume," McGonagall explained. "I think for the first month or so, you should meet with the younger students at least once a week, and then maybe less often after that. If you do decide to pair them with an upperclassman mentor, they could meet with their buddies as often as they'd like."

Agreeing that this would be the best way to begin the program, the meeting came to an end and Hermione returned to her quarters. She realized that it was still early and the sun was just about to set, so she went to sit by the lake and watch it go down. It felt right to be back at Hogwarts. She knew she had a lot on her plate, but when had her time spent at Hogwarts been any different? At least this year she wouldn't be using a time turner.

**xxxxx**

The rest of the week passed by rather quickly. Hermione was a bit overwhelmed, but she got the sense that the rest of the faculty were as well. McGonagall was a witch on a mission: to make Hogwarts an institution where students thrived beyond all previous imaginings. She was handing out new responsibilities left and right, making the professors feel important but also more stressed. The work ethic seemed to jump through the roof. Everyone seemed frantic.

The Headmistress invited the faculty to bring up new ideas for extracurricular activities. "After all," she joked, "Quidditch isn't everyone's cup of tea." While most were stumped, Flitwick and Trelawney agreed to collaborate in establishing a choir group. McGonagall was positively delighted. "Involvement is crucial to inter-house unity," she said seriously, "and activities outside the class will allow students of different ages and from different houses to get to know one another. This can only be beneficial to them."

As she had said at the Heads of House meeting, the prefects and Head Boy and Girl were chosen the very next day. Names were suggested and the professors each made their recommendations or stated their reservations. Hermione did not participate, but she observed the process, and even recognized the names of students she remembered from her own days at Hogwarts. She also heard a couple of surnames that were familiar, probably younger siblings of her former peers.

Finally, on Friday, the last day of preparations before the school year began, McGonagall brought up the idea of hosting school-wide events in the Great Hall at different times throughout the year to boost morale. On top of the feasts at each holiday, they could perhaps invite the older students to balls in the Great Hall. "Like the Yule Ball," Professor Flitwick explained, as McGonagall had relinquished the floor to him, "which was a grand old time, in my opinion."

At the close of the week, all of the important issues had been settled. They were aware of their duties and prepared for the coming term. Hermione was excited and nervous, and she definitely wasn't sure she was quite ready to begin, but knew she would have to dive into everything head-first.

The next morning, she walked across Hogwarts grounds, and once she had entered Hogsmeade, apparated directly onto the stoop of 12 Grimmauld Place. It was still early. Knocking softly, she waited almost a full minute before a bleary-eyed Winky answered the door and almost shouted in delight, but Hermione put a finger to her lips. The house-elf opened the door silently. They went into the kitchen together to prepare breakfast for Harry and Ginny before they woke up.

Her friends were surprised and pleased that she had arrived so early. She was bursting to tell them the news, but as usual, Hermione was excited to hold back the information for as long as possible in order to really blow them away. She told of all the events being planned, she explained the muggleborn program, and unfortunately told them about Hagrid now sharing his position with Professor Grubbly-Plank.

"Never liked her," Harry stated firmly.

"Well, it's not necessarily her fault, no need to blame her," Hermione reasoned.

"I thought her lesson with the unicorns was rather wonderful," added Ginny, smiling wistfully.

"Well, you would," Harry said, "but she wouldn't let any of the boys near them."

The topic moved on to the other professors, new and old, and eventually landed on Draco Malfoy.

"I bet he abuses his power just like Snape did," Harry growled. Ginny agreed.

"Well, from what I've heard, and this isn't to say that I believe it's true," she assured them, "is that he was a decent professor last year. Apparently, the students really like him and they did really well in his class. Besides, if he weren't any good, McGonagall wouldn't have trusted him as Head of Slytherin-"

"WHAT?!" Harry had stood up abruptly, gripping the table for support, "He's a _Head of House?_ That's insane! He can't possibly be any good, and he's way too young-"

"I think I'm in shock," Ginny stated simply. "For McGonagall of all people… to choose _him_… And Harry's right! He's too young!"

"Yeah, you're right," Hermione agreed, sucking in a deep breath, "She shouldn't have named me as Head of Gryffindor, either."

"WHAT?!" this time, Harry jumped a full foot into the air, and Ginny screamed in shocked excitement. "Are you serious? That's… that's fantastic! Excellent!"

Hermione laughed as they both hugged her tightly. They both seemed very excited, but at the same time, a bit dumfounded.

Hermione thoroughly enjoyed her weekend of relaxation, knowing that the following few months would be full of moments when she would feel stressed, tired, and exasperated.

That evening, as they tucked into dinner, Harry suddenly put down his fork with surprising force and turned to Ginny in haste. "I just had an idea!" he announced. "I've told you basically everything about the current Ministry case. Hopkirk said that _I_ couldn't tell Hermione about it, but I bet you could!"

Hermione felt her heart beat increase; she had all but forgotten the case and had not expected to hear any of it, or at least not so soon.

Ginny was excited to help, and immediately began talking, "Well, the zzziigrr is still ghhaaaabiit, but the mugggwurrs were actually reeeeshojenn-"

"Ginny, I don't understand," Hermione frowned, having misheard almost half of what Ginny had said.

"It's pretty straightforward, Hermione," Harry said, as if what Ginny had been saying was clear as day.

"I said, the flaaaaberggob is still flaankershpitt, but the hoggledokrr were all gribbbzeed and could have groobo-"

"I don't think Ginny can tell me about the case, Harry," Hermione said, feeling the heavy weight of disappointment descend upon her. "I guess nobody can. Everything she was saying sounded like gibberish."

Harry's excitement immediately deflated and Ginny apologized, though Hermione assured her that it was not her fault. Clearly, Hopkirk had gone to all lengths to make sure Hermione never heard a word of the case until it was released to the general public.

"Well, maybe I can tell you this, at least," Harry attempted, "_The Daily Prophet_ is releasing a story detailing the basic outline of the case. Should be out Monday or Tuesday, I think. Maybe that'll help?"

Hermione smiled and hoped that it seemed her mood had brightened, "Great, I'm definitely looking forward to that."

Though Harry and Ginny seemed to feel a bit awkward for a while afterwards, the feeling quickly dissipated and they enjoyed the rest of the night as well as the next day.

Sunday night, Hermione and Harry sat together in his study, enjoying their last moment together for what they figured would be quite a while. He knew she wouldn't be able to visit as much as she usually did, and she was suddenly feeling a bit saddened by the future months of isolation from her friends. She'd have Hagrid on the grounds, and Neville (and, perhaps, Ron, if they ever made up) on weekends, but she suddenly realized that her time in the castle may end up being much lonelier than they had ever been during her days as a student.

When Hermione announced that she was ready for bed and reached over to hug him one last time, Harry asked her to sit for one moment more. "I want to give you something," he said, moving to the opposite side of a room where there was a tall cupboard. "It will be of much more use to you than it is to me now."

He reached up to the top shelf and pulled down a box which he opened to reveal a most unremarkable-looking sheet of blank parchment.

"Harry, no-" Hermione tried to say, but he cut her off.

"I know you probably know most of the ways around the castle, but you never know when it might come in handy," Harry insisted, pushing the Marauders' Map into her hands.

"But… it's yours and I couldn't possibly take it," Hermione argued, tears forming in her eyes. "Your father, Sirius…"

"I want _you_ to have it," he said firmly. She stared into his eyes and knew there was no convincing him otherwise, standing up, she gave him the biggest, tightest hug she could manage to give. "Fine," she gave in after releasing him, "but I'm returning it to you when I'm finished with Hogwarts."

"Good enough for me," Harry smiled, and walked her to her bedroom.

The next morning, Hermione woke up early and prepared for the big day. Checking to make sure she had everything she needed, she apparated to Hogsmeade and set out on the road to the great oak front doors.


End file.
